


Try to Understand

by Cave_of_the_mounds



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean Smith, Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Angst, Arguing, Cunnilingus, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, F/M, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rutting, Secrets, Smut, a/b/o dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2018-10-30 01:01:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10865784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cave_of_the_mounds/pseuds/Cave_of_the_mounds
Summary: Written for an A/B/O writing challenge with the song prompt "Magic Man"This is an AU and is going to have multiple chapters.Reader comes from an affluent family of betas and is promised to Benny. She takes an internship for some life experience and discovers some new information about herself as she as drawn to an alpha in sales and marketing.Also posted to tumblr @butiaintgonnaloveem





	1. Chapter 1

“I don’t see why this is necessary,” your mother said almost passively, with a groan. The discussion had been going around and around in circles. You just hoped it would finally end with you getting your way.

“Because, momma, before I’m swept off for the merger, I think it’s only right that I get some real-world experience.”

“Stop calling it a merger, it’s a marriage. And you’ve already been helping with the company for years, what else do you need to know?”

“Yes Ma’am, I know.” You pause for a moment before continuing as you try to think of the best way to convince your mother. “But how are we ever going to move forward if we can’t innovate. It’s only an internship, I’m not doing anything dangerous and it’s not like I’m going to the moon. Come on, momma, please talk to him? Let me do this?”

She pursed her lips, “You’ve got to be careful. Consider how this will reflect on our family name.”

“Of course. Always.” You nod, hoping to appease her and speed up the process of her decision-making. Over the years, you’d figured out that she was typically the one with the final say on matters, and while she took her time, you usually found ways to sway her in your favor.

In the end, you’d won, convincing them to let you take the opportunity for the internship at Sandover before moving forward with your other future arrangements - including your engagement to Benny, the heir of his family. ‘Think of the family name,’ you mocked. Like you’d ever get the chance not to. It was known in practically every household for it’s multi-generation, multi-million dollar business. But also known in the more infamous way for the family stance on breeding practices. 

You had everything ready for your move. You were just getting ready to walk out the door when Benny came by to see you off. He approached you with his slow sauntering gait and gently placed a hand on your hip. He held you away at a respectable distance.

“You sure ‘bout this?”

“Yes, Benny. It’s a great learning opportunity, and it would be unreasonable for me to pass it up.”

“Darlin’, you stay safe out there. Stay clear of any troublemakers, you get me?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to keep from rolling your eyes, “Benny, dear, I’ll be fine. You’re acting like I am going to live with a bunch of savages.”

“An alpha in rut? Omegas in heat? Savages might be the only way to describe them.” 

“Well, I guess this will be a good learning experience, won’t it? I’ve already had to fight my folks on this, don’t start on me too, please. I’ll be back before you know it and we can move forward with the plans.” You gently smile and lean forward to place a light kiss on his cheek. He was kind, protective, and smart. There was no ill will or animosity toward him, but you also didn’t feel anything special; there was no real spark between the two of you. Your mother assured you that it would grow in time, not like you had a choice in the matter anyway. You were chosen for each other, practically genetically designed to suit your families and continue the pure, Beta bloodlines. Love and chemistry didn’t rank high on the list of priorities. Not when there was business to tend to and reputations to uphold. You keep a tight smile on your face as you walk toward the car waiting to take you to the airport, grateful for some breathing room and anxious for a little adventure.

_________________________________ 

Your first day at your internship had you buzzing with excitement. You practically ran into the building, eager to meet people and get started. But as soon as you entered, you buckled over from nausea. The lingering smells from alphas, betas and omegas felt stifling. You’d met and spent time with a few alphas and omegas, but never in a group or in a building like this. The building reeked of smells: musky, perfumey, earthy, sweet - all settling like a thick, wet cloud. You gasp as you try to get yourself under control, half desperate to run back outside for fresh air. The other half of you feeling drawn in, wanting to seek out the smells that appealed to you the most. 

“Hey, you okay over there?” You look through the crowded lobby to find the source of the concerned voice, noticing a petite red-head tilted to her side, mirroring your stance.

“Yeah. Thanks, I’m just,” you take a slow breath in, “Overwhelmed.”

“New here?”

“Intern,” you shyly smile.

“Ah, well, come along, newbie, I’ll help you get to Mount Doom.” 

The bubbly red-head quickly introduced herself as Charlie, and, as luck would have it, she worked in the same department as you. She helped you get set up, introduced you around, and gave you a whirlwind tour pointing out different departments, managers and projects people were working on. You passed a set of double doors, nearly stumbling when your head whipped around at a delicious scent you caught.

“What’s in there?” You gasp.

“Sales and Marketing. Mostly a bunch of douchey salesmen and numbers guys. If you’re smelling anything, it’s probably cheap cologne and dirty money.”

“Not a fan, huh?” You grin at her, as you tilt your head in the direction of the scent again.

“Well, like I said, mostly a bunch of douches. There’s one or two in there that are alright.”

“Huh.” You nod absently before your brain catches up. “So, wait, you don’t smell that?” You sniff at the air again, “It smells amazing.”

Charlie squints her eyes, before taking a suspicious sniff of the air. “Umm, no, sorry.” She knits her brows together, watching you as you flit your attention between her and the closed double doors. “Hey, sorry if this is too personal since we just met and all, but, um, have you presented yet?”

You bark out a laugh before you can stop yourself, causing Charlie’s face to twist in confusion.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. No, I’m not offended,” you bite your lip, trying to control yourself. “I’m a beta,” you assure her with a confident nod.

“You sure?” She gently prods.

You glance down, feeling the nerves fluttering in your belly. You can feel your face going pink, embarrassed before you can even break the news. You lean in so that you can drop your voice to a whisper.

“I’m a Y/L/N, I’m sure,” you say flatly, hoping you didn’t sound as snobbish as you thought you did.

Charlie blinks at you for a moment, trying to figure out what you mean. Her eyes grow wide, almost exponentially, when she figures it out.

“Wait, like THE Y/L/N’s?” She practically shouts.

You nod and pop out a quiet, “Yup,” pushing your hands down to make her lower her voice.

“Shit. Shit. Sorry. Come on. Let’s grab lunch and then you can tell me all about that,” Charlie tugs at your sleeve, guiding you down the hall. You hum and nod, breathing deeply through your nose to catch the scent again before stepping into the elevator.

_______________________________________________ 

Charlie becomes an immediate friend. She was curious about your family, but not judgmental, and a pretty open book herself. She invited you over right away to have dinner with her alpha, Dorothy, and you listened intently as they told you all about some of the adventures they’d been on together in between answering your own questions about their lives as an alpha and omega pair.

“So, you’ve only heard stories? I mean, you’ve really never even just hung out with any before?” Charlie asked.

“Umm, well, yes, I’ve met a few, but I’ve never actually met a pair before.”

“And, you really have no family that isn’t in the beta bloodline?” Dorothy asks, settling back with a glass of wine. 

“Well, none that are recognized, at least.” You shift as your nerves start to get the better of you. The conversation about your family’s practices always made you jittery. Betas. All betas. All by design. Descendants of betas who married betas to produce more betas. As a child, you heard and read sweeping, grand stories about alphas and omegas, about their bonds, and love stories about True Mates, but never heard anyone from your family speak of those same feelings. 

“Meaning?” Charlie presses with a look of concern.

“Meaning...should someone in our family present as something other than a beta, they are...ermm, written off? I guess that’s the nicest way to put it,” you explain with a grimace.

“Whoa, whoa, like ‘written off’?” Charlie runs a finger across her neck to mimic slitting someone’s throat.

“Ohmygod, no! Not like that! At least, not recently,” they both look at you with blank expressions as your attempt at humor falls flat, making you groan at yourself. “Okay, well, at this point, it doesn’t happen often, but a few years ago I had a cousin, Anna, who presented as an omega. As soon as she got through her initial heat, they had her pack a bag. The driver took her to a hotel and handed her an envelope of cash. She was left there, and now the family acts like she just died; pretends she doesn’t exist any more.”

Their hands clench together on the tabletop, and when you finally look up to meet their eyes, they look horrified. A wave of shame washes over you, making your stomach push up a bubble of bitter bile that you swallow down to continue. 

“I, uh, I kept in touch with her, though. She’s actually doing really well. She found an alpha and they’re really happy, I guess.” Charlie and Dorothy continue to just watch you with shocked expressions. “Look. I don’t agree with it. It’s just, they have always preached head over heart, you know? When I was little, I asked my grandfather about the absence of alphas and omegas in my family. He very gruffly informed me ‘We will not be ruled by hormones. Our rationality keeps us civilized.’ And that was that.”

After a moment of silence, Charlie finally clears her throat, looking at you with a pained expression. “I just can’t understand that, turning your back on your child, on your family, because of genes.”

You can’t look her in the eyes any more. You know the way your family acts is controversial, but to really see someone react to it made you desperate for a change in subject. You swallow down the uneasy feeling and toss back the remainder of your wine.

“So, are those all first-edition novels?” you practically squawk, throat tight with nerves, face flush from the mixture of wine and embarrassment.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Charlie’s brow scrunched up in concern, but you try to keep your gaze fixed on the bookcase. You notice the slight movement of her hand squeezing Dorothy’s again before she chimes in.

“Yeah, yes, they are. They’ve been in my family for years.” She rattles on about her book collection while you try to swallow the lump in your throat. When you finally bring yourself to look up, Charlie flashes a quick wink and a friendly smile which calms you down some, relieved that it still seems like she wants to be friends despite what you just revealed to her. No matter how hard you try, though, you can’t rid yourself of the unsettling feeling that’s making your body quiver with nerves. 

_______________________________________________________ 

The moments from the previous night played over and over in your mind as your father droned on over the phone. Though you’d put some distance between you, your family still managed to inject themselves into your new life. You’d gotten more phone calls and texts over the few days you’d been gone than you usually received in an entire month. 

“So, you ready to come on home, yet?” Your father asks teasingly. It’s the fifth time he’s asked that during the short conversation, like he is trying to catch you in a lie. You easily imagine his smug smile, one hand tapping a pen on his desk like he always did while on the phone.

“Really? I’ve only been here a few days.”

He chuckles at your exasperated response. “I know, I know. Just wanted you to know you’re missed. Your mother is more worried than she lets on.”

“Well, let her know I’m fine. Feeling a little queasy, but I think I’m just getting used to the change in scenery.”

“You need Benny to come on out there and take care of you?”

“I appreciate the offer, but no, I’m fine. I promise.”

“Alright, well, when you get tired of all those moody alphas, just gimme a ring.”

“You bet,” you say sweetly while your face remains neutral.

You hang up the phone, rubbing at your temples in frustration.

“Hey, you alright over there?” Charlie whispers in your direction. You feel your eyes well up with unwanted tears.

“I need to take a walk.”

Without questioning you further, she gets up to follow you. Your shoulders curl in as you fold your arms over your chest and duck your head down. You know you look like a toddler having a tantrum, but you can’t help yourself as you practically jog to the elevators. You slap at the buttons until the doors open, grateful that it’s empty once it arrives. Charlie slides in next to you, her own back rigid with tension as she watches you hit more buttons once inside. The two of you remain in silence for the duration of the elevator ride, aside from your huffing breaths. The doors barely crack open before you jump out, pacing the floor.

“I don’t get it. Just don’t get it, Charlie. I get being protective and all, but they’re treating me like they expect me to fail, or run home scared or something. I don’t have anything to be scared of. I’m just here to learn and live and then I’m going to go home and -”

“Hey, hey. Y/n?” Charlie jumps in, halting your pacing and your rambling. “Breathe, okay, take some deep breaths for me. Can you do that?”

You close your eyes, taking in air through your nose until you feel like your lungs might burst. You let it out slowly, then repeat the action, over and over. 

“Okay, better?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod with your eyes still closed, tension slowly leaving your body.

“So, I’ve gotta ask, what are we doing here?”

You slowly open your eyes, taking in Charlie’s obvious concern; her eyes wide with worry, mouth drawn tightly down in a frown.

“Oh, Charlie, I’m sorry. I know. You barely know me and now I just started venting to you and you -”

“No, no, that’s fine. I just want to know what we’re doing here. Like, why’d you come here?” You turn your head like you’re trying to listen harder, like she’s said something you missed. She lifts her finger, gesturing at the walls around you. 

You turn from side to side, elevators one way, the other way closed off by the double doors of the sales and marketing department.

“Oh. I - I don’t know? I just. Needed to calm down.” Your mouth pops out the fragments as you try to figure out why you came here instead of outside. You’re fairly certain that this had been your intended location, but now you aren’t so sure. Why had you gone here? Why does this place comfort you? You take another deep breath, letting the taste of the air settle on the back of your tongue. It’s fresh and calming, like that first breeze of warm, spring air - woodsy and earthy. You hum softly as the warmth from it spreads out from your chest.

Just then, one of the doors swings open, causing a gust of air to rush over you, carrying a scent so rich it makes your mouth water. You head spins, light and woozy, nearly making you topple over as you lose your footing. Charlie steadies you just in time.

“What’s wrong with her?” The older man asks, looking you over with mild concern.

“Oh, nothing Mr. Adler. Just some girl stuff, you know?” Charlie answers softly.

“Well, she oughta get home. An Omega in heat? The office is no place for that. You understand, young lady?” He nods at you.

Your face contorts with disgust. If you weren’t so busy trying to keep yourself upright, you’d have jumped down his throat for being so condescending. Who was he to call you young lady and tell you what to do? You came up here to relax, and instead you’ve got some shit excuse for an alpha acting like your father.

“Yes, sir, we’ll get this taken care of right away.” Charlie nods as he gets onto the elevator. The doors close before she speaks up again. “Okay, let’s just go get you settled in and we can figure -”

“What the hell was that?” You practically spit at her. “What’s his problem? And who were you talking about? Are you in heat, Charlie?”

She stares you down with worry and an apologetic look as you take uncontrollable, heaving breaths. Your stomach begins to ache as though you haven’t eaten in days, a steady pain pulling at your insides. Charlie’s lips pull back with a wince. Her hands remain caught in mid-air, like she’s hesitating. Finally, she speaks, her voice just above a whisper.

“No, I’m not in heat.”

“Well, neither am I,” you croak out and force yourself upright. You both stand in silence for a moment before a shiver of warmth rattles your body.

“It’s the flu. Or something. I’m just going to go home,” you cross your arms over your body, shaking your head in agreement with yourself. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Charlie mumbles. “We should probably try to figure out-”

“No. I’m going home,” you force the words out with as much conviction as you can muster while hunched over. “I must have caught something while traveling, you know how airplanes can be.”

You remain folded over as your skin begins to heat up, dampening with a light layer of sweat that makes you feel clammy all over. You reach out for the elevator button, feebly slapping at it until it lights up for you. Another pang pulls at your insides, making you draw your arms tighter around yourself in an attempt to reign in a shuddering cry.

The double doors swing open again and a figure stops just outside of them. The action pushes another blast of air your way and you moan as the heavily scented air hits you; a brief wave of relief. Then, there’s a voice - deep and clear - that cuts through the shrill alarm of panic ringing in your ears.

“Charlie,” it’s half a statement, half question.

“Mr. Smith,” she answers with a matching tone.

You want to stand up. You can hear your mother’s voice in your head scolding you about your manners. You know you’re causing a scene, and do your best to turn to greet the newcomer. You expect another old executive like Mr. Adler, but instead, you’re met by someone much younger. He steals your breath away as you take in his broad shoulders stretching the seams of his fitted suit jacket. Light brown hair, parted neatly to the side, framing his lightly tanned, freckled face. He’s gorgeous, despite the stony expression he’s wearing as his jaw flexes. His eyes are wide, showing off the most brilliant pair of green eyes you’d ever seen.

Your body freezes. You hear that voice again telling you to move, to do something, but it feels impossible. It feels like you’re stuck in a vivid dream, everything moving around you in a slow blur, your senses off-kilter. He looks at you as though he knows you, like you’re some long-lost friend. His focus so hard it’s like he’s trying to see straight through you. It’s intense, and sends a sudden jolt through you, making you tremble and gasp.

That’s when you smell it. Him. The apparent source of that delicious scent you’ve been chasing. The one you caught on your tour and that you sought out in your panic. It’s powerful, and now with him so close, you can smell the richness of it. Of him. There’s a bit of spice that tickles at your taste buds, mingling with the foresty scent you’d picked up on earlier, with a touch of tangy saltiness. Probably from the light layer of sweat that’s making his face shine in the light.

“I’m so sorry. There must be something going around,” you softly groan.

His eyes leave you, glancing at Charlie, nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply. She gently pats at your back, but the comforting gesture just makes your back prickle with irritation at the contact.

“Charlie?” He asks again, his voice gravelly and strained. You hear it turn up at the end of her name, sounding like a plea.

“Dean. Just hang on. Okay? She doesn’t know,” she tells him calmly, smoothly.

“What? What the hell does that mean?” He steps forward. His voice makes you roll your neck, sending a tingling sensation right down your spine that settles between your thighs. You’ve never felt turned on by just a man’s voice before, and it makes your face burn red, adding to your inner distress at the situation.

You remain hunched over, hands digging into your sides as you attempt to draw the pain away from your core. His eyes move between you and Charlie, waiting for something. His tongue slips out between his lips, and you draw in a deep breath, hauling yourself upright with the inhale. You finally get a proper look at the man before you; his tongue still peeking out between his slightly parted lips and playing behind his teeth. It takes all your strength to suppress the urge you have to press your mouth against his and suck on his tongue and full lips.

The elevator dings and the doors roll open, startling you out of your inappropriate little daydream.

“I should really go,” you breathe out softly.

“No,” both Charlie and Dean answer in unison, startling you again and making you step back reluctantly.

“Y/n, okay, I know this might be a little weird, maybe a little scary for you, but just listen for a second, okay?” Charlie says as she and Dean both take a tentative step forward, making you step back. “I’m telling you, this isn’t some stomach bug, or bad sushi. You’re experiencing a heat.”

Your eyes start to well up again. Your fingers twitch while your body shakes with feverish trembles. A high-pitched, nearly hysterical laugh escapes your mouth as you continue to back away from the two people standing before you. 

“No. I’m a beta. I’m a Y/L/N.” You point in her direction. “You barely know me. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m going home.” Your voice wavers, and your feet try to disobey you, but you manage to step back into the elevator, letting the doors close on panicked faces as they try to dive at the narrowing gap.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader tries to deal with her "flu" and learns a little more about how heats work.

“Okay. Okay,” you whisper to yourself, “Okay.” You think if you say it enough, you’ll be fine. It takes a few tries, but you finally hit the button for the correct floor. Your eyes squeeze shut as you think about Charlie’s words, ‘You’re experiencing a heat.’

“No,” you scoff out loud to yourself. “No, just think. Travel. Stress. Dirty bathrooms. It’s just that. I’m just sick. Break it down. Just think.” You nod with each point, keeping your eyes closed to focus on your mental checklist, trying to drag the focus away from the pain in the pit of your stomach; from the heat simmering just below your skin. Trying to block out the image of the man with Charlie - Mr. Smith. The way he flustered you with just one look, the way that your body itched to-

“No. Okay. Baby steps,” you tell yourself, dragging your focus back to the task at hand: getting home. The simple task feels like too much work, your muscles seem to be begging you to just flatten out on the ground. You fight against it, gripping the handrail with sweaty, slick palms. The car bounces to a stop, opening to reveal the harsh fluorescent lights of your floor.

“Tiny. Baby. Steps.”

You shuffle your way out, making agonizingly slow progress to your desk to collect your purse and keys. Drawing in a deep breath, you prepare for the next leg of your journey, breaking down the plan in your head: ‘get to the elevator, get downstairs, get to the car…’ You repeat it over and over.

Dragging your feet and shivering despite the layer of sweat dampening your clothes, you make slow but steady progress to the elevator again. You can feel eyes on you, making the skin at the back of your neck prickle with discomfort and your heart begin to race. Drawing in an unsteady breath, you try to pull yourself upright and square your shoulders but as you do, you feel a warm hand on your back.

“You look like you could use a little help.”

You twist your head to look at the man standing next to you, letting out a small gasp of surprise. “Oh. Mike? Right?”

“Michael.” He smiles politely.

“Michael, sorry. Yeah, I think I’m coming down with something. I’m just trying to get out of here before I get really ill.” You look down as you straighten out your clothes, then glance up to offer him a grateful smile, finding his eyes roaming over you hungrily. You clench your jaw, nostrils flaring as you draw in a breath of frustration, nearly choking on the overly sweet scent permeating the air around you. Michael takes a small step closer, his hand pushing against your lower back.

“I can give you a hand.” He arches his eyebrow at you with a slight nod. Clearly giving you some type of subtle message that you’re not picking up. The sweet smell only gets stronger and you realize it’s coming from him. It’s like he bathed in vanilla extract in an attempt to cover up something acrid and sour. ‘Alpha,’ you realize, ‘Predator.’ The thoughts make your eyes wide with panic. The cramps in your abdomen intensify and you shiver as his stale breath meets your neck. “I’d hate to think of you alone at a time like this.”

You can hear the elevator moving, seemingly slower than ever.

“Thank you for the offer, but really I’ll be okay.” You lean over to press the button again, not wanting the car to pass you by. You draw in shallow breaths, trying to filter out the scent and get some fresh air, but you feel smothered. It’s beyond uncomfortable; it feels dangerous. He’s too close, too friendly, too forward.

The brakes grind to a stop, making you cringe at the screeching sound. The wait before the doors slide open feels like it lasts forever. The feel of his hand on the small of your back makes your muscles clench with apprehension.

When they finally do slide open, you’re ready to breathe out a sigh of relief, until you’re nearly jumped by Charlie and Mr. Smith. Her eyes goes wide with worry and relief as she reaches out to pull you into a hug, her mouth already spouting off words at a hundred miles per minute. Mr. Smith on the other hand, immediately hones in on Michael standing next to you, his face twists into a sneer and you would have sworn you heard a growl if not for Charlie’s panicked words drowning out nearly all other sounds.

“Ohmygosh, we were so worried. I’m so sorry for all of that. At least let us help you get home-- get you settled-- make sure you’re okay -- get everything you need.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Michael stumble a little before Mr. Smith steps back into the elevator. Charlie is still chattering away and fussing over you as you wring your hands, trying to calm down from the unsettling encounter with Michael. Mr. Smith jabs the button for the main floor, eyes softening as he stares at the columns of buttons. You watch as he draws in a breath, licking his lips and closing his eyes, his shoulders dropping in what looks like relief. It lasts only a moment until the elevator bounces to a stop after only two floors. His face jerks up, his features hardening again. You can still hear Charlie profusely apologizing but you’re mesmerized by the image of the man before you.

He steps to the crease of the doors, blocking the people waiting for entrance. For a few seconds you are unable to see his face, but you don’t miss the fearful, submissive reactions by those waiting for the elevator as they step back and the doors close again. It sends a rush down your spine as the elevator shakes when it starts to move again. ‘Alpha. Safe, strong, protective,’ jumping to the forefront of your thoughts.

“No,” you blurt out, drawing your eyes away from his figure.

Charlie blinks in surprise, “Huh?”

“No. Just no,” you glare in Mr. Smith’s direction. “Charlie, I’m okay.”

“We just want to make sure you get home safely.”

“No, this is insane,” you weakly protest, “Please leave me alone.”

“Just stop. We can’t do that,” Mr. Smith cuts in, a sharp edge to his tone. It makes your back go rigid, and you lock your knees to stop your legs from trembling. Just hearing his voice makes your stomach muscles twitch, and you clamp your lips together to hold in a whimper, exhaling slowly through your nose. You hold your breath and close your eyes, trying to avoid thinking about the dull throbbing between your legs. ‘No. No. No,’ you think, drawing in a tight breath -- the rich, woodsy scent again floods your senses making you lightheaded.

“Hey, Y/N?” Charlie cuts in with a soft voice, “Please, at least let us make sure you get home, and then we can go from there? You really think you can make the drive home like this?”

You give in with a slight nod. “Okay, Charlie, okay,” you answer as exhaustion takes over, throwing your hands up in defeat.

She nods to you with a tight grin, pleased with your acceptance, then nods over at Mr. Smith. You follow Charlie’s gesture, shooting a glare in his direction and a raised eyebrow.  
Her voice cracks a little when she speaks again, “Oh, I suppose I should properly introduce you, right? This is my friend, Dean. He’s going to help, too.”

“Is he one of the non-douchebags?” You ask, trying to put on a brave face, not loving the idea of another aggressive alpha coming on to you. Still glaring as he turns to Charlie with an amused look of ‘Well?’

“Yup,” she assures you both with a thumbs up.

“Fine, but you’re overreacting,” you manage through gritted teeth, crossing your arms as you silently ride out the pain churning at your insides. “Just get me home.”

Dean and Charlie nod in response. His eyes focus on the numbers as you descend, while Charlie’s dart between the two of you. You close your eyes, trying to push away the image of the man standing before you and the way his jaw is clenching and unclenching, making the long muscles in his neck flex, and how his skin is -- .

You bite your lip, hard enough to focus on just the pain, rerouting your thoughts from Dean to a plan as the elevator makes its slow descent to the lobby. ‘Get downstairs. Get home. Get in bed. Not with Dean. No. Noooo. Okay, downstairs. Home. Be-nno Rest! Rest. Okay...’  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Charlie has her arm locked with yours while she fiddles with the keys to your door. Dean lingers close behind you.

“Whoa! You have this place all to yourself?” She asks, loud and enthusiastic after swinging the door open. You can only nod, still woozy from the car ride over; feeling high on the scent coming off of Dean. Charlie cringes in apology when she notices how sensitive you seem, dropping her volume. “Okay, bedroom?”

You can’t help yourself as your eyes flick over to Dean, noticing his back going rigid at the question. Charlie nudges your ribs, but you don’t look away.

“It’s okay. He will wait right here, won’t you Dean?” Charlie asks.

Dean’s tie is loose, the top button of his shirt undone. You catch his eyes tracing your frame, his mouth hanging open like he’s in a daze until his eyes meet yours. He clears his throat, then grunts an affirmative, “Mmhmm,” before turning away to lock the front door. You and Charlie shuffle away down the hall to your bedroom.

“Second, uhhh, second door on the right,” you mumble, eyes suddenly heavy with sleep. All your muscles burn, you feel utterly exhausted and before you know it, your legs give out. You would have fallen to the floor had Charlie not been there. But she struggles to hold you upright. “Wait. H - help,” you beg.

Before you completely collapse, Dean’s in front of you. His hands hook under your arms, holding you upright and steady in a spacious hug. Your mind begs you to stand up and get control over yourself, but your body sags into his grip, forcing him to step closer. Dean wraps his arms under your shoulder blades in a tighter embrace. You sigh, weak and tired as Charlie skips ahead, opening the door to your bedroom and pulling back your bedcovers thus clearing the way for your entrance as Dean staggers along with you.

Dean ducks his head, placing his mouth against your ear, “You’re going to be fine. Get some rest. Let me take care of you.” He inhales a shaky breath before lowering his voice to barely a whisper, “Sweet Omega.”

Drowsy and half-conscious, you whimper as the words make your chest constrict, a warmth spreading over you. The cool bedsheets are a relief as you are laid across them, your eyes flutter closed, breaths go heavy as you slowly fall asleep.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Fingers creep over your abdomen, not quite tickling, but still making your skin tingle and your muscles twitch.

“Mmm,” you breathe, “Mmhhmm.”

Your eyelids are still too heavy with sleep, but you turn, slightly leaning into the touch as your legs slide open in invitation. The top of your panties is lifted and the fingers drift lower until the tips graze at the edge of your folds; already wet, they spread your slick slowly. The touch is again feather light, just barely tickling until you jerk your hips up, pushing against the hand, giving your steady, throbbing core the much needed pressure it demands.

“Mmoorre,” you whine, a bit deeper than usual in your sleepy state, finding it harder than normal to push out the word as your tongue fails to cooperate.

The fingers begin to massage between your lips, circling around your clit and dipping down to your entrance to feel around and spread even more wetness. Your breaths go from pants to heavy sighs until finally, the hand working at you cups your pussy, pushing the heel against your clit while two fingers enter you. The sensation pulling a throaty moan of satisfaction from you.

“More.” Your mouth manages to form the demand a bit easier as your hips rise and thighs clamp together, forcing more pressure where you desperately need it.

“Omega,” you hear, quiet and muffled, but coming from somewhere nearby. ‘Yes,’ your mind practically screams. The wetness between your thighs grows, making the fingers slide in and out of you easily. 

Your brow furrows, as good as it feels, it’s not enough. Your thighs squeeze tighter, shaking with effort, forcing the hand against you harder, deeper.

“She needs an Alpha,” A deep voice growls.

“Yes. Need it,” you mumble, the sound of it feeling disjointed -- like it’s coming from you, but it’s not. Your neck and shoulders burn with tension as you curl into the sensation of pleasure tightening in your core. Your eyes are squinted shut - hard - but the voice begins to cut through the haze of dreams clear, yet distant.

Answered by a smaller, higher voice, “I know that, but she doesn’t know. She’s gotta accept that she’s an Omega -”

“Stop saying it like that. Not just an omega. I can fucking feel it, Charlie. My Omega.”

The hand between your legs massages steadily against your clit, keeping time with your rising hips as the tension in your core finally snaps.

“Alpha,” you cry gently as you come, eyes popping open. The sound finally pulling you fully into consciousness. Your heart races in your chest as the shock of the moment makes your stomach twist. Your hand caught between your thighs cramps up while a fast rush of heat burns across your skin. The relief of your orgasm colliding with the panic of what this all means jolts you from sleep. Your mind is filled with thoughts and images. Your mind quickly flicks through the memories since your arrival - ‘the lobby, the delicious scent, Dean. Alpha. “You’re experiencing a heat.” ‘

You shake them away to take in your surroundings, to ground yourself again. “Okay, I’m in my bed. Alone,” you say to yourself. Feeling clammy and uncomfortable with your hand and underwear soaked in slick, and your hair and clothes damp with sweat.

A timid knock at the door makes you yank your hand from between your legs. You quickly wipe it on the bed sheets and pull up the covers. The back of your other hand rubs at your mouth, wiping away any evidence of drool. You then pat at your hair in a half-assed attempt to look more presentable.

“Ye-Yeah. I’m awake.”

The door cracks open and Charlie’s bright hair swings through the gap, followed by her nervous smiling face.

“Heyyy, Y/N. How are you?” She stops, one foot in the door, the other still in the hall, waiting.

“Okay. Still not great. Kinda...confused?” you reply, staring at the rumpled sheets like they might have answers.

“Can I come in? I’ve got some water and food...if you’re up for it?”

“Where’s Dean?” you blurt out.

She glances in the hallway behind her, “He’s here. Did you want-”

“No!” you nearly shout, hearing a discontented grunt from the hall. “Just you right now, please.”

“Sure,” Charlie slides in, leaving the door open just a crack and approaches the bed. She hands you a plate of sliced fruit and the bottle of water. “So, you got some rest, feeling any different?”

You focus on the food in front of you, trying to ignore the tightness in her voice. After a moment you simply nod. A vague answer for her vague question.

“Okay, well, that’s good. You were out for a few hours, I, uh, we were getting worried.” She taps her fingers on her leg for a moment, then places them in her pockets as she waits for you to finish your food. You just chew slowly, lining up questions in your mind, replaying the dream you had and sorting out the overheard snippets of conversation. The cramps have dulled, but not by much, and the throbbing between your legs seems to get amplified by the dirty thoughts that keep popping into your mind.

“Charlie?”

“Hmm?”

“What, um, what does a heat feel like?”

She scrunches up her face for a second, “Well, how do you feel right now?”

Swallowing thickly, not missing the way she deflected the question, you try to think of the best way to sum things up. Then suddenly, the words rush out of your mouth before you find the willpower to stop them.

“Well, I feel like I’ve got the flu, but also terrible like PMS and cramps. And I want to sleep, but at the same time I keep getting these little bursts of energy and all I can think about is...” You tilt your head to draw her in closer and lower your voice to a whisper, “I can’t stop thinking about having sex. Like, I’m really fucking needy suddenly. You know?”

She draws in a deep breath, “Yeah. I know.” She doesn’t continue, just offers you a soft, sympathetic smile.

You pull your lip between your teeth, feeling a lump rising in your throat. You try to clear it away before talking again. “So, what do I do?”

“You basically have to give your body what it needs,” Charlie replies with a shrug.

“What it needs? How the hell do I - oh. Ohh. Okay.” You tense with the awkwardness of the situation, your eyebrows lift and you nibble your lips. “That explains some things then.” You nod to yourself as you think over the past day.

“Look, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, it’s just...biology. You get that, right?”

“Right.” You scrunch up your face in thought, trying to focus on something other than the pain throbbing between your hips and the heat of the fever flushing your skin. “You’re right. It’s just biology. It’s science. I can think my way through this...I can.”

You swallow thickly as you think to yourself ‘I’m an...I'm an omega. I’m having a heat. My body wants to mate. My body wants an…’ 

Your eyes snap to the door where you can hear Dean tapping his foot on the other side. Your chest starts to heave, imagining him leaning against the doorframe, his own breaths coming in huffs, his arms crossed and pulling the fabric of his shirt tight across his shoulders.

“Charlie?” you ask without moving your gaze from the door, “What happens if I don't have an Alpha?”

“Well. It's rare, but your symptoms could become worse. Then you'd really get sick, and dehydrated, and...” she drops her voice to mumble, “There's a slight chance of not surviving your heat.”

She might as well have shouted the last part. The words hang in the air like a neon sign, setting your brain into overdrive as you try and figure out your next step. The whole time, your eyes are fixed in the door, like you can feel the pressure of Dean’s presence on the other side and you're waiting for him to push through.

“Dean is an alpha,” you mean to ask, but it comes out as a statement.

“He is.” Charlie confirms.

You swallow thickly, “I'd like to talk to him, Charlie. Alone, if you don't mind.”

“Yup. Sure.” She practically runs from the room, pulling the door wide open, revealing Dean standing there; his arms outstretched holding onto both sides off the frame, his jaw locked and eyes dark. Charlie hops back a step, “Oh! She’d like to talk to you,” then ducks under his arm and walks down the hall.

He drags his hands down the frame and steps inside, gently closing the door behind him. You can't help the way your body shivers watching him; his sleeves now rolled up and shirt untucked. He's wound up, you can tell, his movements all tight and controlled. When he breaks the silence, his voice is even deeper and grittier.

“You want me?”

Your skin flushes from his heated gaze, pink splotches burn across your chest, neck and cheeks. You’re embarrassed by the way your mind immediately screamed, ‘Yes!’ to his question. You nervously start to trail your fingers around the hem of your shirt.

“I'm not sick.”

“No, you're not,” he replies dryly, still moving in a slow, moseying approach getting closer and closer.

“So, you know what I'm about to ask from you? You're ok with this?”

“It's biology,” he says, rolling his shoulders.

“It's barbaric,” you say flatly, making him stop in his tracks.

“It's nature.”

“Maybe for you, but this is new to me. I'm just taking the most logical approach here. My body wants to mate, you're ready and willing, so we do this and I get to move on with my life and figure out where to go from here. Basic fulfillment of needs. I don’t really want to die...not from this.”

His posture drops a bit as you finish. You notice the way his fists suddenly clench and hear his tongue click against the roof of his mouth, showing obvious restraint from how he wants to react at this moment. He looks around the room, anywhere but at you as he chuckles humorlessly.

“I guess that's one way to set the mood. Not really the romantic type, huh?”

You pout at that, narrowing your eyes in frustration. “We don't even know each other. Okay? You said it yourself. This is about biology, all of this...this hormonal bullshit. If you don't want to help with this, fine. I'll figure it out.” You pull up the covers with a huff and fall back into the bed, turning away from him. As you do, your heart clenches painfully at the idea of him leaving.

After a moment, you feel the bed dip next to you. His scent is even stronger now and he seems to be radiating a comforting warmth as well.

“My name's Dean Smith. I have a sister, her name is Jo. My mom and dad have been happily married for years, their names are Bob and Ellen. I graduated from Stanford. I'm the director of sales and marketing.” You pull the covers off of your head and twist around to look at him. He's waiting, anxious, but at the same time sure of himself. “I know who you are, Charlie filled me in while you were sleeping.”

“I just want this over with. I'm just going for the most reasonable solution for this. Okay? I'm not looking for anything -”

“Hey,” he cuts in, again fighting an expression trying to appear at the corners of his mouth. “You don't have to love me. I'm just trying to make you feel better for a while. Don’t be scared. Just…” he sighs, “Let me take care of you, Omega.”

The word rolls over you, making your body squirm and setting your breathing off in sharp pants. He pulls the covers down further, trailing his fingers down your jaw, along your neck, to the top of your blouse.

“You want me?” he asks again, his fingers dancing on your skin, eyes dark and focused, lips parted as he breathes heavily waiting for your answer.

You lick your dry lips, the word coming out hoarsely, but clear nonetheless.

“Yes.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doubts, interruptions, stubbornness. How much more can the reader and Dean take?
> 
> Reader's thoughts are in italics.

 

He hums, satisfied with your response. You watch Dean’s eyes as they follow his fingers along the collar of your shirt. You stretch your neck as he drifts his fingers over the skin there, just barely tickling you and igniting a rush that makes its way down your body in a shiver. Your eyes roll back in your skull, and your head follows the movement, stretching your neck as your head tilts to the side. 

His hand moves lower, his palm just brushing over your breast, grazing at the stiff peak of your nipple, making you jerk your head down as you gasp. Your body had never felt this sensitive, so amped up. He watches you respond to him, his jaw set as he focuses on his touch, a controlled hunger in his eyes. Never had you been with a man who had looked at you that way, like he could eat you alive.

It all sends a fresh wave of nervousness through you. “Dean?” you whisper. His attention immediately returns to your face, watching your lip tremble as you ask, “It won’t - it won’t hurt, will it?”

He freezes, eyes wide and forehead creased, head shaking as he starts to mutter, “You’re not-”

“No, no,” you assure him, your cheeks and ears burning red, “But, just only with betas. Obviously.”  _ Because alphas cannot be trusted to control themselves. _

His shoulders drop back as he relaxes slightly. “Thank god. I mean...you know what I mean?”

You nod, trying to play it off before you shyly add, “And never with a stranger...like this.” 

The admission catches in your throat as the words click.  _ Dean is a stranger. A stranger and an alpha. _

Silence settles over the room. His hand still rests on your ribs, hot through the fabric of your sheets and you’re fighting the urge to wiggle beneath him to make him brush against your breast again, despite the sudden flare of fear settling in your gut.

He clears his throat before speaking, his voice still gravelly despite the gesture. “I’m sorry -”

His words are cut short by the cellphone buzzing and ringing on your bedside table. Your muscles tense as you listen to the ringtone assigned to your mother play out. Your eyes watch the phone shaking across the wood, muscles rigid with alarm until it finally stops. You wait, wondering if she’ll call again, but the beep notifying you of a voicemail is the only noise it makes.

You recognize the sound of Dean talking, but don’t hear the words over the warring voices in your head.  _ This isn’t what you do. You don’t meet Alphas in elevators and let them into your bed. _  Not until he gives you a little shake with the hand on your torso do you look back to him.

“Hey, I said -”

But he’s cut off again by your phone, the ringtone letting you know it’s Benny this time. It takes a moment for your mind to catch up.  _ Benny...Benny...future husband, Benny. _

“Fuck,” you whisper, stretching to grab the phone and answer it, slightly breathless.”Hello?”

“She lives!” he says with a chuckle. “Chere, you got your momma in a state over here, you alright?”

You scrunch up your face into a pained expression, doing your best to swallow down the tears. You push yourself up to sit, turning away from Dean, feeling his hand slide away. Your voice comes out soft and shaky, “Hi Benny. I-I’m okay. I promise.”

His tone changes to match yours, “You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. Like I told my father, I just caught a bug or something.” You rush out the words, afraid to say anything more, to admit anything else. “Please, Benny, be a dear and get her to stop her worrying?”

“She ain’t gonna stop til she gets her girl home again, you know that,” he lets out an amused huff. “You shoulda heard her go on ‘bout Alphas takin’ advantage of Beta girls and how she shoulda sent me along.” He whistles, “She was on a roll with that one. Almost convinced me to hop on a plane right then and there.”

You smile wistfully at his admission. You knew he’d do it, too. Whether it was because he was protecting you as an asset or a friend, you weren’t sure, but you were glad to have him by your side a few times when you’d needed someone.

“I’m sure she did, what did she say to get you so worried?”

“Nothing that ain’t been said before, but then hearing you were so sick...I’d hate to think about you gettin’ in a situation.” You hear him breathe in, humming at a thought. “Maybe I oughta come out there, at least escort you around -”

“No! Benny don’t!” you shout before reeling yourself in. “I mean, really, I’ve been fine. I’ve met some very kind people. In fact, a very nice omega from my office helped me get home. But if you want to visit sometime soon, we can arrange something.” From behind you, you hear a hmmppff, while Benny lets out a little sigh over the phone. “Right now, though, I’m just tired, I should really get some rest.”

“Alright, I’ll let you go and tell your momma to call off the rescue mission. You take care, call me if you need anything.”

“I will. I promise.”

You hang up just in time for a fresh wave of nausea to wash over you. You drop the phone as your body begins to shake, palms sweating, hair going damp and stomach quivering on the verge of sickness.

“Ohmygod. Oh. My. God,” you whisper to yourself over and over as your mind races, replaying the conversation in your head. And Benny, you hadn’t even thought of him in all this, the guilt immediately settles like a boulder in your gut.

You hear Dean shift behind you, the bed sinking a bit as he moves closer. “Who’s Benny?”

His voice strains, tight with anger, although he obviously tried to make it sound innocent and light. Tears start to form at the corners of your eyes.

“He’s uhhm,” you pause, trying to find the best word, “I guess he’s my fiance.”

“Your what?” Dean’s voice goes flat. You can feel the tension, the anger rolling off of him behind you. You suddenly feel vulnerable sitting with your back facing him, so you turn slowly, eyes cast down watching your hands, the sheets, anything to avoid looking up into his eyes. 

“Yeah, I mean, nothing’s been official yet, but he’s one of the most eligible beta males in our social circle, and so our families…” You glance up to see Dean staring at you, his face stunned like he’d been slapped. Nervously, you continue, “S-so our families planned this out for us.”

“And you think what we do is barbaric.”

Now it’s your turn to feel the verbal slap in the face. It pulls you back from that edge of desire immediately replacing it with irritation. “Not that it’s really any of your business anyway. You should go. This isn’t right.”

“I should what now?” You see him straighten up from the corner of your eye.

“Yeah. You should get out of here. I don’t need some-some alpha coming in here and taking advantage of me just because he’s horny or whatever this is.” Your volume rises as you get more and more worked up. “You need to go.” You start to push at him. “Go, Dean, please! Charlie! Charlie, come in here!”

You hear her footsteps in the hallway, the door flying open as she stares at you and Dean with wide eyes. “What is it? You okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m just - Dean should go. I’m not doing this,” you mutter, your hands covering your shameful expression.

She stares at Dean, obviously alarmed at the situation, her mouth struggling to form words, “Bu-I thought - you were -ah..”

“Charlie, please?!” you beg as you wrap your arms around yourself, huddling into the bed again as tears start to run down your cheeks. You close them and turn into the pillow, listening as she and Dean talk in whispers as she gets him out the door. After a few minutes everything goes quiet until you hear her gently call your name.

“He gone?” you ask into the bedding, not ready to look up.

She hums a yes as she closes the door. You listen as she pads her way over to the bed, her tiny body barely moving it as she sits down and starts to rub your shoulder soothingly.

“Charlie I can’t do this. My life, my plans, Benny and the wedding? I can’t give all that up. I don’t even know if this is real. What if you’re wrong, huh?” You lift your head to look at her, but she just shakes her head, helplessly.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. The signs are all there, though.” You drop your head down as exhaustion begins to settle in. Your breaths getting heavy; you’re nearly asleep when she speaks up again. “Soooo, Dean told me - I, umm, I had no idea you were engaged.”

“It’s an arranged marriage, really more of a business merger, but they hate when I call it that,” you mumble.

“But you’re...together,” Charlie says uncertainly.

“Yeah...I mean no, not really. Just by the title. We weren’t ever  _ together _ -together. We’ve known each other for a few years now - courting if you want to be formal about it. He’s a good guy, and he’s kind and friendly. My mother assures me that it’s a good match and that I,” you take in a deep breath as you twist the sheets in your hands, “I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? If I’m not a beta, then I’m nothing to them.”

“Hey, hey. Okay,” she pulls the fabric from your hands, “It’ll all be alright.”

“No! No, it’s not. I’ll be nothing. I’ll just disappear and it’ll be like I never existed. I’ll have nothing. No one.” She tries to shush you as your voice rises with panic, anger unexpectedly making your face burn. “Charlie, you can’t be right. This doesn’t make any sense. God, I’m so stupid, I can’t believe I almost...Nope. You know? From what I can tell, they’ve been right. Alphas only think with their knots, taking advantage of any willing, warm body.”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there. Okay? You don’t know Dean. I promise that whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong. Now, I don’t know what Benny or whoever said to you, but just try to trust me a little, and maybe trust yourself. What does your gut say?”

You stubbornly close your eyes, “I’m tired.”

She waits for a few minutes and you consider talking more, but instead roll over and curl up into yourself, shivering and breathing deeply to handle the cramps stinging your gut. You feel yourself starting to doze off again, barely hearing her as she leaves the room as you listen to the little voice in your head crying out for an alpha.

___________________________________________________________________________________

 

You shoot up, drenched in sweat and panting, another terrifyingly vivid erotic dream having pushed you from sleep.You check your phone, finding that you’ve slept through most of the night, and that you’ve missed a few more check-ins from your family. You send out a few short replies, eyeing the dark hallway. You don’t want to wake Charlie if she’s still there, to you opt to get up and take care of things yourself, barely making it to the fridge on wobbly legs.

“You okay?” Dean’s deep, sleepy voice interrupts the silence, making you jump.

“Jesus...yeah.” You take a deep breath to calm yourself, going woozy with the heavily scented air as you let out a content sigh. You take a long blink as you savor the taste on your tongue, that same delicious flavor from earlier, and when you open your eyes, you seek him out. Dean’s leaning on the doorframe in the darkness, just slightly illuminated by the light from outside; looking unfairly good for the middle of the night. “I thought you left,” you continue when you find your words again, a slight hint of relief in your tone. 

“Not until I know you’re okay.”

“Ah huh,” you reply skeptically, “Where’s Charlie?”

“She’s still here, she’s asleep on the sofa.” You lift your chin as you squint your eyes, showing him you’re not sure if you believe him. He gestures over his shoulder, “Go ahead, take a look.” 

You take slow steps, watching him warily as you move forward to the doorway. He leans back to give you space, but you still find your arm brushing against his chest as you lean through, and fighting not to lean into him. Through the darkness you find Charlie on your sofa just as Dean said, tangled in blankets with her mouth hanging open as she breathes. You nod, but don’t move, savoring the warm, electric feeling from being so close to Dean. “Y’know, I’m not just some asshole alpha.”

“I wouldn’t really know the difference, would I?” You answer quietly, looking down to your feet, bashfully admitting your naivete.

“I think you would.” You hear him move before you feel the static-like sensation of fingers lingering over your shoulder, “I think you do, and that you need to get out of your head and just listen to your instincts.”

You want so badly to just lean into him again, to nuzzle against him and feel the heat of his touch; your core throbs as your blood pumps hard throughout your body, still worked up from the last dream you woke up from. The voice inside of you gets assertive and louder, insisting that he’s right mingling with images from your dream of your chests pushed together, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his lips against your neck as he whispers into your skin that you’re the sweetest omega -

“Shit. No,” you whisper as you shake the thoughts from your head. “No. See, that just shows how you don’t know me. Once I’m feeling better and not all fever-crazy, you’ll see. You and Charlie will see that this was all some weird misunderstanding. I just need to let the fever work its’ way out.”

He finally presses his hand against you, making your muscles roll with the rush of excitement, “Y/n,” he starts, then stops, the muscles in his jaw clenching as he swallows, “Say what you really want to say to me, please?”

There are more thoughts running through your mind than you can vocalise. He was a stranger this morning, but you feel drawn to him, comforted by him, more attracted to him than you’ve ever been to anyone in your life.  _ Of course, you idiot, he’s a hot alpha. Your alpha. _

“Ha!” you blurt, before slapping your hand over your mouth. He lifts his eyebrows curiously and you slowly pull your hand away. “I’m going back to bed,” you say with a gulp. His fingers curl over your skin. “Alone,” you add.

Even in the shadows, you can see the pained expression on his face as he pulls his hand away and mumbles a gruff good night. You remain still, not able to will your feet to move for a few moments until he breaks eye contact.

“Good night.”

The rest of the night is full of fitful sleep;  sinful images appear every time you finally do get a bit of rest, always featuring Dean. You wake up each time, gasping for air, and embarrassed by the wetness pooled between your thighs, even with no one there to see it, until you fall back into the mattress and start the cycle all over again as the hours pass.

Charlie brings you breakfast in the morning, gingerly tiptoeing around you as she helps to take care of you, obviously hurt by your outburst, but still being kind to you.

“You didn’t deserve that yesterday. I’m sorry, Charlie,” you meekly apologize between nibble of toast.

Her lips curve up into a tiny, sympathetic smile. “It’s a stressful situation. Try not to overthink it too much. Okay?”

You want to ask her if she means your outburst or the suggestion that you might be an omega in heat, but you can’t bring yourself to say much other than to provide short answers for the questions she asks until she makes her way out. She appears throughout the day, going about the same routine each time - bringing you food and water, checking your temperature, giving you pain medicine - acting as your nurse and being careful not to push you.

You don’t bother asking about Dean, knowing he’s still there by the scent you’ve come to identify as his. But he keeps his distance, aside from occasionally stopping and pacing outside your bedroom door. Every reminder of his presence makes you jittery and irritable, your symptoms flaring up every time you imagine him pacing, perfectly disheveled in the hallway, until you whine and moan into your pillow taking care of the ache between your thighs. 

You feel yourself spiraling even further into desperation; your “wait and see” approach about your symptoms doesn’t seem to be working. The aches, the sweating, the exhaustion from the buzzing need that doesn’t ever seem to die down seem to increase by the hour, they are nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your body feels like it’s not even your own anymore. No matter how many times you manage to make yourself come, it’s never enough, the peak of pleasure an unsatisfying relief for only a few moments. You wonder how much longer you can last like this, how crazy of an idea it really is that you might actually be an omega, that the relief you need is just on the other side of the wall, waiting for you to allow him to take care of you.

You were in the middle of another feverish dream when your phone woke you up, and now you’re perched on the corner of your bed, pussy throbbing from unfinished business while you try to carry on a conversation with your mother, but all you can focus on are the dragging footsteps along the hallway outside of your room. You’re sucking in air through clenched teeth, trying to keep from moaning at the pain of the cramps rolling through your core as you listen to your mother talking at you, but you can’t pay enough attention to know what the conversation is about. 

“Did you hear what I said to you?”

“What? Oh, um, no ma’am, I’m sorry.”

“Where is your head at? You’re not still ill, are you?”

As she talks you can hear the sound of pacing outside your door, footsteps far too heavy to belong to Charlie. 

“Yes, momma, I am, but I’m-I’m going to be okay. I’m just thinking - overthinking some things, really.” You close your eyes to focus, but all you can picture is Dean’s face from your dream, his eyes focused on you intensely, his chest heaving, his voice low as he whispers  and tickles your neck. “I have everything I need to get better right here.”

Looking back to the door, you start to pant, before you are drawn back to the voice in your ear.

“Y/n? Y/n? Are you alright? You’re breathing so heavily, should I call an ambulance?” Her words quick with concern.

You stumble over your words, but finally stammer out, “N-no. I’m okay. Please, don’t do anything.” You work to slow your breathing. “I think I just need some fresh air.”

She surprisingly doesn’t push any further, letting you quickly off the phone as she insists that she plans to send over some vitamin supplements her trainer swears by. You agree to everything just to end the call as quickly as possible, impatience getting the best of you as you try to stare through the door as Dean continues to march back and forth on the other side. As soon as you end the call, you toss the phone aside and stomp your way over, yanking the door open.

“You’re driving me nuts!” He stares at you, barely affected by your outburst; his head tilted down to glare at you from beneath his brow, lips parted, nostrils flaring as he heaves in air. “You’re out here pacing like some caged animal.”

He closes his mouth, pursing his lips while his jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing at you. “Well, maybe that’s how I feel.”

“Maybe you should do something about that. Why are you even still here? Just to make me crazy with-with” you gesture up and down at him, “All this? Why haven’t you left?”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

He steps closer to you. “You know why.” 

Your teeth click together as you snap your mouth shut. 

“Look, I am sorry that you had to find out like this. I’m sorry your life isn’t going as planned, but can we stop pretending now? You’re not getting better.” He lowers his voice, the stern tone replaced by something more soft and gentle. “Y/n, you know what’s going on, you know what you need.”

You shake your head slowly from side to side as the voice inside your head starts to beg for him to say it.

“You do. You  _ know... _ Omega.”

Your eyes immediately start to pool with tears as the word sends a wave of relief through you. You faintly nod as an answer, the voice inside your head finally silent. He steps closer to you, his hands raised and moving slowly to show you he means  you no harm. You squeeze your eyes shut as he rests his hands on your upper arms, gently pulling you into him and you feel the fabric of his shirt dampen from your tears.

“Shh, shh, shh. I am going to take care of you. I can make you feel so much better, just say the word.”

You pull away, eyes cast down to the floor as you let your hand run down his arm until your fingers grasp his. You start to walk the two of you back into your bedroom, barely pausing as Dean swings the door closed behind him.

It’s silent aside from the heavy breathing coming from both of you. When you reach the edge of your bed, you stop, unsure of what to do next. He squeezes your hand, then slides his  hand  back up your arm, over your shoulder and neck until he grasps your chin between his fingers, pulling your face to look at him. His other hand feels burning hot as it rests on your hip, but you don’t pull away.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” He asks. His eyes search your expression, but you just stare blankly at him, waiting for something inside of you to snap you back to your senses, or for something else to interrupt, but nothing happens.

“Y/n?” He asks, waiting another moment before trying again, “Omega?” You gasp for air like he’d just given you permission to breathe again, your eyes focused on his wide green ones, “I said -”

“Kiss me,” you beg, watching as the corner of his mouth twitches up in satisfaction.

The fingers holding your jaw loosen, then skim over your skin as he slides his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into him as he lowers his head to yours. You both keep your eyes open, watching for a sign to stop until you feel his lips touch yours. It’s not so much a kiss as it is lips brushing against each other, but it feels good. You pucker a bit and push into him and his hand tenses at the base of your skull, holding you tightly. He tilts his head to reciprocate and you feel your muscles relax even though your stomach continues to do flips and heat rushes your cheeks.

“Okay?” he asks, lips still pressed to yours.

You wait, listening again for that nagging voice, anticipating some part of your mind protesting, but it’s nothing but silence and the hum of need and blood racing through your veins. “Yes.”

He pushes back against you, his lips catch yours as you move together, opening to taste each other. Really, you just follow his lead, enjoying it as he guides you with little nudges and grunts of satisfaction. His hands hold you against him in a tight grip as you kiss until you’re both breathless.

He pulls his lips away with some reluctance, then leans his forehead against yours, “You know. I mean, you know how this works, what’s going to happen?” He turns his head to mouth along your jaw.

“Yeah-yes,” you whisper, leaning your head back, stretching your neck and exposing yourself to him. His face has a bit of stubble after two days without shaving; it scratches the sensitive skin on your neck, pulling a whimper from deep in your throat. His lips make their way past your pulse point, sucking gently and pinching the skin between them. The rough scratching alarmingly pleasant, you gasp suddenly from the sensation.

“Don’t claim me,” you punch out in a quick breath. “I can’t. N-not yet.”

He freezes against you, a short sigh escaping him as his posture drops slightly. “Okay,” he says, nodding against you, before continuing to kiss along your skin.

His hands move to the hem of your shirt, separating from you just enough to remove it, his eyes watching your chest heave, skin shiny with sweat. He leans down, his tongue pointed out between his lips, licking a soft stripe from your cleavage to your jaw, growling as he tastes you. He huffs against your neck, his hot breaths over your already heated skin making goosebumps pull at your skin and shivers run down your back.

“Is my sweet little Omega ready?” He drags a hand along your stomach, inching his fingers slowly to your drenched panties. A breath away from the promised land and your phone starts to ring again. His lips snarl as a low rumble rattles in his chest.

You reach out blindly behind you, feeling for the stupid piece of plastic until your fingers wrap around it. With a flick of your wrist, you toss it somewhere to the side, not bothering to look where, or even checking it when you hear multiple pieces clatter to the floor, just grateful that it stops making noise. 

Your eyes focus on the man in front of you, on the way his neck rolls every time he swallows, and how his pulse makes the skin on his neck flutter with how hard his blood is pumping. You notice how, for the first time in days, your body feels light, the tension that pulled at your muscles gone and you almost feel high. 

Your pussy throbs then, reminding you of what you need, and that only Dean can give it to you. 

“I’m ready, Dean.” You inhale a deep breath, letting his strong scent hit you, letting the relief you feel from it roll through your body. You blink, slowly, then focus back onto him, his eyes blown wide and black with lust, which your expression mirrors. Your mind goes blank, aside from one unfiltered thought, which you voice, soft and clear.

“Take care of me, Alpha.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

“I will, oh god, I will.” He nods his head while he stares at you earnestly, his tone confident and sure as he holds you tightly.

Though the nagging voice is quiet, there is still a soft whispering deep down inside of you -  _This is silly, and dangerous, and wrong._  But the need is there, and in another part of your mind, it makes sense. Reassured by his words, you cup his face, pulling him to you to pull his scent right up against you and to taste him.  You press your lips against his, alternating between nibbling them between your teeth and swirling your tongue with his, unable to keep still. His scent surrounds you, and your head tilts and twists as you pull away and trail your way with kisses along his jaw, determined to taste every bit of his flavour - a mixture of sweat and heat and arousal that’s sweet and tangy and salty and somehow fresh all at once. You breathe deeply until the taste of his scent settles on the back of your tongue, but still feel desperate for more as you continue to mouth at his skin.

His embrace remains tight, even while his hands begin to roam over you, keeping you close as if you might run away if he were to let you go again. You kiss and lick and breathe him in; both of you arching into each other, your hands going shaky as you run them over his torso and to the front of his shirt. You start to pull the buttons of his shirt open, your hands jerking them through the buttonholes impatiently. He only shifts to allow you room to work, otherwise keeping you pressed against him while the blunt tips of his fingers dig into your skin as he claws at you, keeping you standing in an awkward tangle of limbs and clothing.

Moans and hums fill the otherwise silent room, along with the occasional lip smack and sigh and grunts of surprise. Your mouth drops open, breath caught in your throat until a shaky whimper escapes.  _Need Need Need_  - is all you can think. It’s not even clear what you need, but it feels like everything all at once. His scent, his touch, his taste, his heat, his sounds, his cock.

He doesn’t seem to mind as he bends and turns to let you get your fill, your hands shaky and clumsy as you work at the edges of his clothes, snagging buttons and tugging at the hems until his dress shirt comes off. You let out a whine of disappointment when you find a crisp white undershirt instead of bare skin, which Dean notices.

“Here,” he says, pulling his hands away from you to remove the dress shirt the rest of the way. He’s barely gotten it off before you reach for the hem of the undershirt. You quickly start bunching the fabric in your hands to pull it up and over him, eager to press yourself against his skin.

His arms hang loosely, letting you control the moment. You pull the shirt up, revealing his firm stomach and broad chest steadily rising and falling with his deep breaths.

As your eyes trail up from his waist to his chest, your hands quickly abandon the task of removing his shirt, instead leaning in to kiss over his exposed chest, eager to feel and taste the newly exposed skin.

His stomach muscles flex with a chuckle as he realizes you’ve gotten distracted, leaving his arms in the air with his shirt only half off and stretched around his shoulders. He pulls it by the back of the collar over his head, messing up his hair a bit as it goes. Your eyes travel downward, watching his chest rise and fall. At his sides, you notice his fingers twitch, obviously anxious to hold you again, but he remains still, letting you take your time. Continuing further down, you notice the line of his erection outlined by the fabric of his pants.

You’ve never gotten weak in the knees before, certain that it’s just a silly phrase, but your body actually slumps a bit when an intense burst of desire makes you quiver. Slick practically flows from you as your pussy clenches. Sharp cramps remind you of the exact thing you were going for. Your eyes snap back to his face, finding that he’s staring at you with a pained and hungry expression, his eyes begging you for more. You nod, dumbly before your words catch up with you.

“Dean, I want to. I want you to. Please? Please?” You ask quietly as you reach behind you to unclasp your bra before pushing your body into his.

His jaw clenches when he feels you press up against him. “Yeah. Okay, but we’re gonna do this slow. I don’t want to scare you,” he grinds his hips between the press of your bodies, pushing his cock against you. “Or hurt you.”

One hand grazes your side, moving down until he can grip your thigh, yanking it upward to make you stand on one foot before skimming over your hyper-sensitive skin. He tickles and teases over your hip, until slipping lower so that his fingertips can graze at the crease where your ass meets your thighs. Your head drops back when he shifts his fingers lower, groaning when he finds you’re soaking through your underwear.

The hard line of his cock in his pants rubs against you, and your underwear slides a bit between your legs as more and more slick coats the fabric. Forward, back. Forward, back. It’s slight, but the movement is there, your hips tilting to catch any bit of friction against your clit that you can. You roll your hips into his light touch as your mouth hangs open and eyes plead for him to follow through with his promise. The pleasure and the anticipation border on painful as the clenching and cramping in your core continues.

He twists the two of you toward the bed, guiding you back to lie down while he nuzzles into your neck. Your body goes limp against the mattress. You swallow a gulp of air when his light stubble scratches your neck, a rush of pleasure joining in the slight burn.

“No teeth,” you weakly insist, almost in a question. A slight rush of nerves makes goosebumps rise on your skin at the thought of his teeth puncturing your sensitive skin.

“No teeth,” he agrees, his voice strained. “I won’t even knot you.”

Somewhere deep down, the nagging voice manages a  _Yeah, right_  but you barely acknowledge it amid the desperation you feel with every nerve of your body.

He pulls back until only his lips touch you, puckered and sucking light kisses across your shoulder, then down to your breasts, stopping to tongue at your nipples before following the curve to the center of your chest and kissing straight down along your breastbone. You flinch a little when he tickles your stomach with his lips, but relax as he continues his slow descent to your hips and the waist of your panties.

He lifts his brows, he eyes clear of lust for a moment as he silently questions you. You lift your hips, breathing out a rough “uh huh” as an answer.

He pulls your legs together and up, sliding your underwear off. Your legs tremble as if overcome with shivers, but you feel nowhere near cold. He slides his hands back down your legs, letting your feet drop onto the mattress again, one foot on each side of him. His palms return to your waist, slightly lifting himself before sliding onto his stomach, his head traveling downward. You suck in a sharp gasp when you feel his warm breath against your soaked slit, the sound of his deep inhales and moaning exhales makes your back arch and you try to lift your hips to entice him.

“Omega,” his strained voice comes out low and muffled as he wedges his face between your thighs until his nose touches your clit. His tongue licks between the lips of your pussy. A groan bordering on a whine of satisfaction escapes him when he tastes you. Your eyes roll back at the contact, hips jerking and stomach spasming as the pleasure from his touch snakes its way through your limbs. It feels good, but your need draws you tight in pain, itching at your skin telling you it’s not enough.

“Dean,” you whisper, tapping at his head, but he ignores it, his tongue diving into you repeatedly to lick into your heat.

“Dean,” you say more firmly, voice lilting with a hint of panic and hips twisting a bit to try to pull away, but his hands grip tighter, holding you down with a growl as he savors your taste.

“Dea-,” you pause to try something else, “Alpha?”

He pulls away, half of his expression looking dangerous, like a feral dog having his meal taken, the other half of him looking concerned and almost apologetic at your tone.

“Please? It feels good, but not that. Not right now. Please?” you beg. Your body draws up tight as frustrated muscles start to fight back with tension. “Please.”

He swallows thickly, then licks his lips as he runs a hand through his tousled hair. “Yeah. Okay. I’ve got you.” He pushes himself up, sitting on his knees on the mattress while he unbuckles his belt, his chest heaving with each deep breath.

“I’m gonna take care of you, I promise. I promise.” He mutters as he undresses, but you’re so far gone that you don’t care, he could be promising you a cotton candy pony and you’d nod in agreement as long as it meant that he’d be inside of you soon. Your mind feels foggy, slow. Something deep inside you knows it’s somewhat concerning how hyperfocused your brain is, but trying to think of anything other than the need for release makes your thoughts go all jumbled.

He slides off the bed to finish undressing as you continue to writhe from the combination of pain and heat, and what feels like an unreachable peak of pleasure making you toss and turn. You close your eyes to try to focus, keeping them closed even when you feel Dean’s hand grasp at your ankle with a firm hold before sliding his way up your legs. You feel him crawling up the bed to meet you,the mattress sinking below his knees. He pauses at your core, and you hear him suck in air through his nose. You clumsily bring a hand down, grabbing his wrist, tugging gently to encourage him to continue his journey upward before resting your arms down at your sides.

“It’s okay, little Omega. It’s okay,” he nods, pausing his slow crawl over you. “You’re doing so well.”

The petname and his praise ease the panic and you take a deep breath to relax yourself. His scent and body heat seem to calm you. You nod and he moves farther up, until his thighs push against yours, spreading your legs a bit more while your feet hook around his legs. He holds himself up, fists against the mattress and arms stiff and straight. You slide your hands up until your arms are stretched and you open your palms over his shoulders. You feel his arms tremble while he keeps himself over you, but he doesn’t move to lower himself yet. It hits you then that he meant it when he said slow, and that he’s letting you take the lead, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Dean,” you pause, only briefly catching the anticipation in his eyes before sliding your hand over the soft flesh of his stomach, his back curling up a bit as he tilts his hips into the touch. You take your lip between your teeth while your fingers go lower, feeling the light trail of hair in the center that guides your touch until you feel his cock brush against your hand. You twist your palm so that you can wrap it around his length, both of you drawing in shaky breaths as you do so. “Come on. I need this.”

The air feels heavy around you, thick with the mixed scents of your arousal. Slick flows from you steadily, dripping down along your slit and wetting the sheets. You feel his legs shift and he bends an elbow, lowering himself to rest his weight on his forearm. He brings his other hand to your face, sliding his thumb over your cheek while he cups the side of your head. He tilts his face to look into your eyes. The look is sharp and intense. Suddenly, with him all around you, you feel so small, but not intimidated like you’d imagine with an Alpha.

“I want to do this. Dean,” you swallow as you realize this is really it. You lift your head just a little until you can rub your nose and lips over the tendon straining in his neck, scenting him again and feeling the sweat and oil of his skin. It feels like it strengthens you, reassures you. Without overthinking it, your hands start to pull him even closer as your breath tickles his ear, “Need you in me, Alpha.”

A deep growl rumbles from him, his eyes flash with hunger before he darts them down your body. His hand leaves your cheek and bats away the hand you were using to stroke his length. He grabs himself, squeezing just slightly and pulls a little sigh of pleasure from his lips. He slowly grazes your soaked pussy lips with just the head of his cock sliding along them slowly. You hiss and twitch at the movement.

“Fuck,” he groans, lining himself up with your entrance, feeling smooth against you with how wet you are. He moves his hand from his cock to your thigh, pulling it high and tight against his hip and side. You feel him draw in another deep breath as he pauses, his head dropped to your side, cheeks pressed together, until he starts to ease himself in. You feel the stretch as the head of his cock enters you, pulling a raspy moan from deep in your chest, the feeling already driving you toward pure bliss.

“Still okay?” he whispers. You respond with a high-pitched “Uh huh” and claw at his back. He sucks in a deep breath before thrusting completely inside of you, making your hips jerk up when he rubs against your swollen and sensitive clit. A rush of emotions and pleasure overwhelms your body and brain. He stills and you both suck in heaving breaths. It’s like the world stopped, nothing else ever mattered or felt as right as the sensation of Dean filling your aching core.  _That’s it. It’s…it’s…_

“Goddamn perfect, little Omega. Just perfect,” he mumbles, interrupting your thoughts, or finishing them. You aren’t sure if he’s actually talking to you or to himself, but you nod your head as you agree. “Is this good?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you whisper, your voice wavering a bit. The words come out quickly, surprising you once you say them - actually hear them with your voice. Everything about the moment and the situation feels so different and foreign. The intense scent, the warmth, the gushing wetness from your pussy, the pain, the ache and the insatiable need - all strange, but somehow not wrong. It’s all more than you can consider at the moment, so you shake your head to clear the thoughts and shiver as you feel Dean exhale against your neck, choosing that moment to push into your pussy again, sliding easily into you as you clench around him.

He keeps a steady pace of in and out, occasionally grinding against your clit as he buries himself inside of you. Every deep thrust pushing the air right from your lungs as your body jolts up with the movement. He grunts against you each time, the sound tight and restrained, and you realize that while he feels so good, it’s not enough for either of you. Your hand, still wrapped along the back of his neck flexes, scratching at his hairline to get his attention.

He pulls his head up so he can look at you, sweat beading along his forehead and eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” you assure him, lifting your head to press your lips to his. Your lips will his to open and you tease at his tongue until the kiss gets sloppy and dirty. Satisfied, you let your head rest on the pillow again, lips swollen and red, “Dean, I need more.”

He pulls out before slamming back into you, hard enough to shift your bodies up the mattress a little and making you both moan with pleasure. “You sure,Y/n?”

“Yes. This feels so good, come on.” The jolt of satisfaction is still subsiding when you roll your hips hard against him, pulling a strangled moan from him in return.

He digs his fingers into your hip then, freezing both of you in place. “Don’t. Do that,” he growls, face steeley with concentration, “Or I won’t be able to control myself.”

Part of you feels tempted to do it again, just to see how much you could push him, your hips pulling just slightly against his grip. However, his strong hold keeps you still, reminding you of his Alpha strength. A slight flicker of fear tickles your gut as you remember everything you’d heard of the ruthlessness of alphas and their uncontrollable anger, so you keep still, waiting for him to move again.

“Yes, Alpha,” you concede, somewhere deep down hoping that it’s the right answer.

You feel his cock throb inside of you and the slight swell of his knot, but he keeps still as he concentrates on his self-control, taking deep breaths until his muscles relax and his grip loosens. His expression softens when he speaks again, “Ready?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod.

He hums in satisfaction, pulling back before thrusting hard into you again, then again, and again. His pace quick and hard and building up your orgasm quickly. Your body starts to burn with the tightness of your muscles, pressure building as your clit throbs. Your pussy takes him in over and over, as the anticipation of going over the edge making high pitched whines escape from your throat with each stroke of his cock.

His hands go back to gripping you tightly one hand hooked around your shoulder, the other still on your hip, keeping you in place. His mouth finds yours in another sloppy, barely controlled kiss. “Feel good? You gonna come for me, Y/n?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter.

“Is this what you need?”

“Yaa-esss,” you keen, as you clench your eyes shut and arch your back as he draws out a wave of pleasure that rolls through you at that moment.

“Let it go, beautiful. Come with me. Come on, Omega,” he moans, breathlessly.

Your pussy and clit flutter and throb as your orgasm hits you, sending relief rolling hot over your skin as your muscles burn with the release of intense pleasure. Your brain even seems to blank out as your eyes roll back into your head, unable to think of anything other than  _Yes! Yes! Yes!_  He continues to grind against you until he lets out an almost pained cry and you feel his cock pump his release inside of you.

He lets his muscles slump a little, resting over you without fully dropping his weight onto you. The sweat from your bodies cools while you both gasp and hum as you try to catch your breath.

“Y’Okay?” he asks into the pillow.

“Yes,” you respond breathlessly.

He nods, silently, then places a kiss to your shoulder, swallowing loudly as he pulls himself from you.

You feel relief, for the first time in days. The ache is gone, the tension melted away. Complete exhaustion starts to pull at your consciousness, but there’s a sharp edge of disappointment that you can’t shake.

“You…didn’t…knot me?” you ask hesitantly.

He doesn’t meet your eyes right away. You stare at him with concern, watching as his jaw clenches. “Yeah, I know,” he mutters.

“But…You’re  _an Alpha_ , I thought…” you trail off, not knowing what you want to ask, or why it bothers you.

He lies back, flat against the bed, one hand running through his hair, his own expression seeming as flat and disappointed as yours.

“Believe it or not, some of us are able to control ourselves,” he sighs. “I don’t have to knot you. I don’t think you’re ready for it, and like I said, I don’t want to hurt you or scare you.” When you don’t respond right away, he turns to face you. “You feel better though, right?”

You lower your eyes, and nod, sure that if you looked at him, you’d cry. Everything you’d known to be true seemed to have just been thrown out the window. You want to think through it, but you feel worn down, confused, and ready to pass out.  He curls up against you, tucking your head beneath his chin and holding you to him tightly.

“It’s okay. I’m here and I’ll help you. Get some rest, okay? You’ll need it.”

“But I don’t get it. I don’t understand how or why-”

“Shh, shh-shh. It’s okay. We’ve got a lot to talk about. Later, though. Just rest.”

You nod against his chest, but blink rapidly to try to fight the sleepiness taking over as you attempt to think through everything and how your body had reacted to him. The idea of your family finding out what just happened briefly flashes through your mind, but you’re too tired and comforted by the thumping of his heartbeat to let it pull you from sleep as it finally takes over.


	5. Chapter 5

You snuggle into the pillow as you swing a leg out from under the covers, eager to feel the cool air. After a few seconds, you readjust the pillow again, trying to find a comfortable position with your sore muscles.

Another few minutes later, you roll over in the bed, kicking away the sheets. Your stomach aches with hunger, while the rest of you aches with a satisfied kind of soreness. You and Dean had barely left the bed for the last 36 hours as he helped you with your _situation_ over and over again. A tiny groan slips from your throat as you stretch and turn, trying to find a new, cool spot to relax in. Eyes still closed, you pull one of your other pillows beneath your head, burying your nose in it and inhaling the strong Alpha scent that lingers.

Eyes slowly opening, confusion jumbles your thoughts and you roll back over, realizing you’ve shifted across the bed entirely and onto the side Dean had been occupying, but is now empty. Slightly panicking, your hands search the span of the bed as you stretch out, but he’s gone. The nagging, familiar voice reappears, hissing doubts about everything - _you did something wrong. He regrets it. They were wrong. He’s running out on you. What if you aren’t even an Omega and he took advantage?_

Your breathing starts to pick up while you try to talk yourself out of a panic attack. It takes a moment, but then you finally start to hear sounds coming through the slightly cracked open door. _He’s still here._

You take your time to calm down, stretching and noticing your body feels less on edge and closer to normal, aside from the lingering stink of sex. You decide on a quick shower, then a much needed conversation with Dean. As his promise of talking later had been pushed back every time the two of you blissfully snuggled into the bed.

You tug on the hem on your shirt, feeling shy, then feeling stupid for feeling shy since he’d already seen every bit of you, but can’t help it with all the questions you’ve got racing through your brain. You keep your eyes downcast as you make your way to the kitchen, pep-talking yourself for the few steps it takes to get there and discover that Dean’s made himself quite comfortable and helped himself to coffee and waffles.

“I didn’t even take that out of the box yet,” you point to the waffle-maker. It’s not the way you wanted to greet him, but the slight annoyance at his actions gets the better of you.

He turns to face you, surprised, but smiling. “Well, you needed to eat something good. There’s a plate for you in the microwave.” He goes back to fumbling with the parts to your phone, his mouth curved down into a frown of concentration while trying to figure out how to fix it.

“Thanks.” You bite your lip, unsure of how to proceed. You keep still, taking in the bare skin of his chest and shoulders while making note of the freckles dotting his skin. You clench your jaw and turn away, grabbing out the still-warm food. Cutting up a few pieces and settling into the seat, noticing he’s also got juice and scrambled eggs set out at the table. “So…”

His mouth flips to a small smile, “Huh? Oh,” he says back, setting your phone down on the table and spreading his hands out helplessly, “Yeah, it’s trashed.”

You wave it off. “It’s fine. I’ll get a new one later.”

He nods, a thoughtful expression on his face, “So, how are you feelin’?”

A bit of shyness overtakes you, and you focus on your fingers twisting a loose thread on your shirt. “Ah hmm, I’m good. I feel...pretty good. You like to cook, huh?”

“Well, I eat, don’t I?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, “Guess I just expected something...different. I mean, you and Charlie really just hopped in and took over, even unpacked my kitchen for me,” you throw an accusatory glare his way, “It’s good, though. Like, I’m kind of okay with it.” You talk between bites.

Dean nods then clears his throat. “And, uhh, this? You still okay with this?”

You shrug the shoulder and bite your lip. “It’s, umm, it’s a lot. I sti-still don’t know,” you groan at your inability to form words. “I don’t understand all this. This isn’t,” you take a deep breath, “It’s also not what I expected.”

It was the truth. Everything about Dean had thrown you for a loop. He stayed in bed with you, comforting you and taking care of your _heat._ The word still sounded weird, even in your head. True to his word, he didn’t knot you, though he seemed close once or twice. He was thorough, and careful, and undemanding and now apparently also very self-sufficient and nurturing.

“Yeah, I bet it’s not,” he scoffs.

You jerk your head back in offense and surprise. “Well, there’s the cocky Alpha I _did_ expect.” You cross your arms and sit back. You glance up at him just in time to see his eyes dart away from yours, a remorseful expression clouding them.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He keeps his eyes downcast until your silence prompts him to look you in the eyes. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, “I’m just a little pissed this all had to happen this way.”

“Yeah. It’s a lot.” You lean in again, and gulp down some coffee, thrown off by his quick apology.

He draws in a deep breath, “So. Yeah, I’ve got some things I’d definitely like to talk about -”

He’s interrupted by a light knock at your door that makes you jump.

“That’s probably Charlie,” he says, getting up to open your door. You sit there stunned, watching the way he moves, completely comfortable in your living space. He disappears around the corner and you hear him let her in, then her voice going non-stop. You get up after a moment and wipe your palms nervously on your thighs as you walk to the hall where they stopped. She’s rattling off question after question while sounding panicked, only stopping once she sees you in the doorway.

“Oh! Jeez, look at you! How dare you look so good after your first heat?”

You smile and blush uncomfortably. She turns back to Dean, her tone losing the playfulness again, “Well, Dean, I’m serious. Mr. Adler was going nuts -”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll go in and handle it.”

“Handle what?” you ask.

“Work stuff. My, uh, absence wasn’t really planned for, so I’ve got some projects to get back on track.” He walks past you to the bedroom and gathers his things, tossing on a shirt and then walking back out with his belongings bundled in his arm. He pauses in front of you, setting his free hand on your hip, “I’ll see you later though, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” you whisper. It feels so domestic and routine, and like you should kiss him goodbye, but you just stand there awkwardly, unsure of what he is to you.

“Charlie’ll help you.” He leans in and kisses your cheek. “It’s okay, Omega,” he whispers, making your eyes snap to meet his and catching his smirk. “I’ll see you later, Y/n.”

“Bye, Dean,” you whisper, hypnotised while he he walks out.

Charlie sighs next to you. “Hate to see him go, love to watch him leave, right?”

Your face splits in a wide smile. “What?” you giggle.

“Just sayin’. Plus, I had to snap you out of it somehow. So? You ready for the crash course? Some _real_ stuff about Alphas and Omegas?”

“Yeah,” you look around, suddenly overwhelmed, “I suppose.”

Charlie spends the morning with you, helping you to fully unpack and clean your place, then ordering take-out for the two of you while she told you what she thought you’d need to know about Alphas and Omegas, lots of general information and biology. Some of it sounds familiar, but some of it surprises you. At one point, she digs in her messenger bag and hands you packs of pills that she explains are suppressants.

“I asked the doctor about your heat, too,” you gape at her with wide eyes, “Totally anonymous, don’t worry!” she defends. “Anyway, she thinks that your presentation was delayed and kind of sat dormant because of how...you know, secluded you were before.”

You nod, trying to match up all the new information she offers with what you’d been taught. She follows behind you while you walk with clean sheets into your bedroom. She grabs a corner of the fitted sheet, helping you make up the bed while you talk.

“And everyone’s just this open about sex and mating and all this?”

“Well, yeah?” she shrugs. “We’re all going through it. Can’t help biology.”

“I guess, but that all just seems like such a-a personal thing. I mean, I learned all about the birds and the bees, but thank god I never knew when my parents were busy screwing each others’ brains out. And you’re just here, helping me remake my bed after I just had a sex marathon on it, like it’s no big deal.”

She nods in confirmation. “Sooo, since we’re being so open with each other,” she pauses and you give her a playful glare. “How was everything with Dean?”

“Fine. Good. He was good. Things - things were good. Why?”

She smirks at your awkwardness. “Well, I figured he’d mark you, I just wanted to make sure it was okay for you.”

“Yeah, no. he was good. Everything worked...it went smoothly. Wonderfully. He didn’t knot me, either. Said he didn’t want to scare me,” you shrug.

She whistles in astonishment. “Damn, Y/n. That’s...impressive.”

You scrunch up your face in confusion. “Why’d you think he’d mark me? You said that they don’t always mark Omegas, so why did you think he’d mark me?”

“Oh?” her eyes dart around nervously while she tries to evade the question. “Well, just-no no reason.”

“Charlie,” you scold.

She looks like she’s grinding her teeth to avoid talking, her lips pursed closed, but she’s bouncing with something she’s aching to tell you. “Okay. So, just going on instinct here, don’t overthink it. But - if you got to choose your mate, do you think you’d choose Dean?” she blurts out the question.

You stare at her blankly for a moment. “Uhmm, I don’t...I don’t know. I’ve never considered anything like that.”

She sinks with clear disappointment. “You’re overthinking it. I said, just first instinct.”

“Charlie, even without all this Alpha and Omega hormone stuff, I never thought like that. Benny’s been chosen to be my mate - hormones or love or not.”

Her mouth opens to talk again just as the doorbell rings.

“With how cozy he made himself this morning, I can’t believe Dean’s not just letting himself in.” You tell her over your shoulder after hopping off the bed and making your way to the door. The bell chimes again and you roll your eyes, “Coming!”

You press your palms to the door and check through the peephole, stomach sinking like a dropped anchor as you freeze on the spot. Trembles and a rush of heat race over your skin. Hearing Charlie make her way out of the bedroom, you turn to look at her over your shoulder, her grin immediately replaced with a concerned frown.

“You okay? Who is it?” she timidly asks.

You shake your head while drawing in a shaky breath, jaw hanging open slightly. Like on autopilot, you straighten up and reach for the handle and pull the door open.

He’s on the phone, voice stopping mid-sentence once he sees you, his blue-grey eyes wide with relief as he releases a long sigh of relief.

“Yeah, she’s fine. Lookin’ at her right now. Don’t worry - mmhmmm - no problem.” He ends the call, shoving the phone quickly into his pocket. “Hello, darlin’.”

Benny reaches out for you, pulling you into a hug; you automatically wrap your arms around his torso.

“Hi, Benny,” you mutter against his chest. He rocks the two of you side to side, squeezing you tightly and pressing his lips to your hair. He smells a little sweet, like fresh baked biscuits and honey - you’d never noticed it before, but it’s nice and comforting.

You feel him tense up and know he must have inhaled the scent of Omega. He pulls from you a bit, his hands sliding up over your shoulders, then your biceps and forearms until he’s gripping your wrists. His eyes narrowed as he looks you over.

Your eyes go wide with fright and nervous trembles vibrate down to your bones. Movement behind you draws a suspicious look over your shoulder.

“Hey!” Charlie’s voice breaks a little. “You must be the famous Benny! I’m Charlie.”

She extends a hand with a bright but nervous smile.

“Yes, ma’am, and you’re an Omega,” he states, matter-of-factly.

“I am,” she nods, “I’m also a friend from work. I was here helping her get things in order after her he-ahhh hellish couple days she just had.”

He keeps hold of her hand, lightly shaking it as he looks her up and down, assessing her.

“That explains it,” he sniffs at the air, “And her family and I are grateful. I can’t tell you how much we all worried when we couldn’t reach her. Then there was a bad storm that grounded all the flights. I got out here quick as I could, but not quick enough.” He finally drops her hand.

“Well, she was in very capable hands, I assure you,” Charlie says with a knowing smile. You don’t answer, but shoot her a ‘dear god, please shut up’ look before turning to Benny.

“Oh, Benny, I wish you hadn’t gone through all this trouble. I dropped my phone and broke it but was far too feverish to be able to do anything about it. I feel awful that I put you all through that.”

“Hey, hey, s’alright. You’re my bride-to-be, stop fussin’. It’s nothin’ really.” He smiles gently as he pulls you in for a hug, then begins to talk over your shoulder, “Now, Ms. Bradbury, if you’ll excuse us?”

She freezes, her eyes dart back and forth between yours and Benny’s once you pull away. You wrap your arms a little tighter around Benny’s arm. He feels so big, and warm, and familiar. It’s easy to feel comfortable and safe with him there.

“Go on, Charlie, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Charlie throws a few confused and worried looks your way, but you plead with your eyes and shoo her out, promising to catch up with her tomorrow. Reluctantly, she squeezes you in a tight hug and takes off.

Benny spends the rest of the day with you, keeping you busy, getting you a new phone and checking in with your parents. You hadn’t heard anything from Dean, which is a relief but also unsettling.

Benny insists on cooking you dinner, and you find yourself sitting in the same spot you sat in that morning with Dean. Only now, you’re answering Benny’s questions about how things had been since you’d gotten there.

“So, that Omega - Charlie, she’s your friend?”

You sigh, hating where this is going based on the gruff tone of his voice. “Yeah, she is.”

“She spend a lot of time here?”

“Well, she was here a lot while I was sick. Why?”

“Can still smell her,” he shrugs and shifts a bit, seemingly uncomfortable with the scent.

Your breath catches in your throat and you’re grateful that he’s facing away from you so that he can’t notice the horror in your expression. _Take the fucking suppressants_ , you bitch at yourself.

“Oh, well, you get used to it. I guess I did.”

He nods.

“So, how long are you here for? I wish I could have prepared for this visit, but I have to get back to work and make-up what I missed.”

Benny sets down the spoon he’d been using to stir up the food, then turns around, crossing his thick arms over his chest, his expression sad and patient.

“Well, I guess we oughta talk ‘bout that now, don’t we?” You scrunch your face up, while he nods to himself. “Yeah, your folks thought it would be better coming from me.”

“What would?” you jump in, tensely.

“Well, your momma wants you to come on home. She’s worried, says it’s too soon to lose her baby yet. You know? Her girl should be at home, and with how the past few days went, she’s even more set on it.”

“Losing me? What? I’ve gone on vacations longer than how long I’ve been here! I’m not going home.” You clench your jaw and try to still the anger making you shake.

He lets out a frustrated sigh that almost sounds like a growl, readjusting his arms before speaking again, his tone resolute. “Then neither am I.”

“What?” you squeak.

“Those are the terms. Either you come on home, or I stay here with you.” You make a move to argue, but he puts up a hand to quiet you. “I know. I’m not tryin’ to control you. Your momma knows you’re growin’ up in a hurry out here, but you ain’t grown yet. It’s better to have someone to take care of you. Someone to stay with you that ain’t gonna put you in danger. Someone that knows you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter. And Charlie isn’t dangerous.”

“No. I know, but where the Omegas go, Alphas are sure to follow. It’s their nature.”

You begin to sweat and your eyes prickle with tears as uncontrollable emotions rush through your system. Your jaw stays locked, trying to hold back the crying and screaming ready to burst from you.

He looks at you apologetically, knowing how angry you are, but ignorant to all the reasons why. His voice goes even softer. “Chere, you’re important to me, and honestly, you bein’ here all alone...it don’t sit right. So, I’m here. I’m with you.” You stop breathing, a weight settles in your gut like a boulder as he continues. “You’re my chosen mate, and I’m not talking about hopping into your bed, but our lives are gonna start together soon enough, so -” he pauses, stepping forward to cradle your head in his palms. _No nonono._ “So, just let me take care of you. Will you let me do that?”

Your mouth hangs open. Your mind hisses over and over, taunting with the words you spoke to Dean when he made the same offer - _Take care of me, Alpha._ You swallow it down, shutting down the thought while you try to come up with an answer.

“I’m not going home, Benny. At this point, I really can’t.” Your voice wavers and you shake your head resolutely.

“Well, we talked about it-”

“ _We_ talked about it? I feel like I should have been a part of that group that’s so busy planning my life. Benny, I’m sorry you came all this way, but I don’t need or want a babysitter.” You shove yourself away from him. He doesn’t move, just stares you down like he’s waiting for your tantrum to end, fueling the anger and frustration even further. “It’s funny how everyone except me seems to know what I need.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “It’s not babysitting when you’re spending time with someone you care about,” his voice strains just a bit. “But, uh, go on. I imagine you wanna have some words with your folks.”

He turns his back to you, returning his attention to his cooking.

“You’re right. I do.” You drop your head. Guilt pokes holes in your anger, but you choke it down and storm off to your bedroom, ready to argue.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benny's arrived, the bad news has been delivered, and now it's time to figure out how to handle things.
> 
> As always, also posted to my tumblr @butiaintgonnaloveem.
> 
> Enjoy, and remember that I love comments and constructive criticism!

Spending the evening on the phone arguing with your parents got you nothing but a headache and a heavy dose of guilt. Everything was done “out of concern” and because “someone needs to make sure you keep your head on straight” but you knew it was really to keep an eye on you and make sure you weren’t doing anything to sour the deal with Benny’s family. Benny kept fairly quiet during the whole evening, sometimes offering you sympathetic looks, other times expressing his agreement with your parent’s concerns. At the end of it all, when your battle was lost, he softly bid you goodnight, unable to hide the hurt written all over his face as he retreated to the guest room. **  
**

Tossing and turning, alternating between sadness and anger, you gave up on sleeping and used the time to get ready for your potentially very awkward return to work. With any luck, you’d be able to get there early enough that you wouldn’t have to do your post-heat walk of shame.

Exiting the elevator, you hear a few other people already typing away in their cubicles, but you keep your head down, charging toward your desk. Wanting nothing more than to sink into your chair and hide behind your partition, you let out a heavy sigh when you find the note folded over your keyboard.

‘Come see me. - Dean’

_Shit. Of course he’s here._

Your skin starts to buzz with the anxiety that rushes your nervous system; palms going hot and slightly dampening the paper that you grasp in your hands. You pinch your eyes shut tightly, pulling in deep breaths as you ready yourself to head up to his office, uncertain of how to break the news about Benny and your family and wishing Charlie was around to mediate.

After riding the elevator to his floor, you stall at the doors, practicing your speech over and over and trying to ignore the heavy Alpha scents.  _Calm down, just calm down_ , you try to tell yourself, knowing that if you walk in there flustered and worried, he’d be eager to try to calm your nerves. And that you’d probably let him, which starts to lead your thoughts down a totally different path that still doesn’t do any good to calm your nerves. You read the names on the office doors as you make your way down the hall, the pit in your stomach growing with each step until you reached his cracked open door.

You peek through and see him taking notes and nodding at the voice on the other end of the phone line. Tapping your knuckles on the door to catch his attention, he looks up, giving a quick smile as he waves you in. You nod in acknowledgement, but don’t move. Just like that first day, you’re stuck staring at his features - the green in his eyes that you can see from across the room, the little swoop of his hair where he’d parted it, the slight part of his lips as his jaw drops a bit. The staring contest between you comes to an abrupt end when he finally gets distracted by his call, “What? Oh, yes, let me just pull up that report.”

You spent enough time with him enveloped by his scent while he cuddled you in your bed for it to be familiar, but walking into his office sends you reeling as the intensity of it washes over you, making you shiver and and turning the anxious pit in your stomach into a cluster of butterflies. You step further inside, taking in the impressive city view and his shelves of photos - all of smiling people you assume are his family, all happy to be together. The images alone give you a warm, fuzzy feeling, and for a second you imagine yourself in the pictures, smiling along with them as if you belong there. Before another sigh of pleasure can escape, you turn away, glancing at his books, the floor - anything else while feeling grateful for the extra few moments to compose yourself again while you wait for him to finish his call.

“Yeah, sounds good,” he shakes his head ‘no’ while he rolls his eyes at whoever was on the other line, pulling a quiet chuckle from you. “Yeah, let me know when you update those figures.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he hangs up and removes the headset, an excited smile lighting up his face. He pushes up out of his chair, striding toward you until you take a step back in response.

He immediately pauses, the fond expression replaced with alarm as his shoulders square up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You wanted to see me?” Your voice wavers, but you keep your posture stiff.

He perches himself on the edge of his desk as he looks you up and down, “Yeah. Well, we should talk, and Charlie said you were busy last night, so,” he pauses as you fail to stifle a large yawn. “Uh, am I boring you already?”

“Yeah. I-I mean, no. Just-just tired. I didn’t sleep well.”

“And here I thought I’d thoroughly worn you out.” He smirks proudly and readjusts himself on the desk.

You scoff, eyes wide at his boldness, “Wow, I’m still not used to that, and no, that wasn’t the problem. My family…they’re um, complicating things.”

“From what I hear, that not anything new.”

“No, it’s not,” you agree, sucking in a deep breath as you break out in a sweat.  _This is it, just tell him and get it over with_. “They want me home, and Benny-”

Dean growls, it’s low and quick, but noticeable.

“Down, boy,” you dryly scold.

“Sorry. Sort of instinctual,” he says, lowering his eyes as he pouts.

“Yeahhh, and that’s a little crazy and exactly what they’re afraid of.” You glance away, trying to push down the tiny flicker of satisfaction from his response.

He looks at you again, annoyed and taken aback at your words. “Well, Charlie explained things yesterday, right? Helped you with understanding? I mean, it can’t be that surprising.”

“So, because we slept together, you’re going all territorial? I’m not your property or even your mate-”

“Okay, hang on-” he tries to jump in, but you continue on.

“No, alright, I get the hierarchy, but I also am not so naive that I can’t handle this being just a hook-up okay? So spare me all this…this.” You wave your hands at him.

He chuckles a little, though it lacks humor. “No, it’s not like that.” He pushes out a tight breath as though he’s readying himself for bad news. “What did Charlie say about me - us?”

“Nothing,” you respond, the tension in the room growing thicker by the moment.  _Oh, God, he’s married, or there’s something wrong._

He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Okay, well, based on what you know, what do you think? About things…and me…and you?”

“Well, jeez, I didn’t know there’d be a test. I listened, I learned some things, annnnd I’m considering it all.” You cross your arms.

“Considering? What exactly is there to consider?” He mirrors your stance, arms crossed and pulling his dress shirt tight.

“One roll in the hay doesn’t make it true.”

His eyes narrow, “A roll in the? Oh, so now you’re a biologist?”

Your jaw drops as you scoff at his nerve. “Charlie told you about me, right? You spent a few days in my bed, but you don’t really know me, and if you did, you’d realize what all this could mean. My family? Gone. Life? Gone. Home? Gone. I’d be an omega abandoned into the world. What would I do then? Take suppressants and try to avoid shadowy walkways? Hope I don’t get cornered? I’d be _on my own!_ ” Your ears ring from your own shouting and you pant heavily.

“You need to calm down.”

“I need? Aughhh. You too, huh? I can’t believe it made it this far in life without someone telling me what I need every second of every day. Because my family isn’t controlling enough, and then they have to go and interfere and put Benny in the middle of it all!” Eyes wide and body trembling at the surge of panic and anger running through your system, you stop yourself from blurting out the situation with Benny, not wanting this to go any further. “You know what? There’s no point in fighting about this. It’s just best we don’t spend time together.”

“That’ll be tough when we’re working together,” he mutters loud enough to make sure you hear.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve got a project coming up and I needed an assistant. I worked out a few things,” he says, unapologetic.

“Arranged it behind my back, story of my life right there. Why?

“Why what? I just told you-”

“No, why would you do that? Is this some Alpha claim thing? Like, now you think you own me?”

“No!” he shouts defensively. He slowly moves toward you, confusion and concern written all over his face. “No, I just - don’t you feel it?”

You shake your head, barely more than a tremble, but enough to acknowledge him.

“The pull? That heart-pounding, electric feeling? Can’t you feel us feeding off each other, like the way…the way you felt when we were together?”

As he moves closer, you feel exactly what he’s talking about - that static feel, the surge of blood pumping through your heart and the way it skips a beat every time you look at him, they way that he radiates something intangible, but you crave it, taste it, want to be wrapped up in it. You put up your hands, stopping him and yourself before you both get too caught up.

“What are you saying, Dean?”

“True Mates,” he breathes, the words punch you in the gut and knock the air right from your lungs.

Words race through your mind, but your lips can’t catch up and you find yourself spluttering out word fragments. “That - that’s - but, th-those are all love stories and fairy tales.”

He nods his head like he agrees with you, his face reflecting what you feel as though he’s trying to find the right words. “I know, and I don’t believe in destiny. I do believe in dealing with what’s right in front of us, though. And this is…it’s real. I thought it would be a good thing, that I could help you.”

He’s moved so close that you can feel his warmth, his scent clouds around you and you fight hard to avoid swooning at the dizzying sensation of having the Alpha right there, feeding every bit of want within you.

“Mmmm,” you lick your lips, tasting him on the air, “Hmmm, that’s - that’s nice.” Your eyes drift closed and your head starts to lull, it’s just a second before you snap back to attention, “I mean, that’s a nice thought. Just wrap it all up in a nice, neat bow because that would be so perfect wouldn’t it?”

His jaw clenches, cheeks twitching and nostrils flaring at your words. “You’re so damned stubborn, why the hell do you have to be like this?” A fresh surge of anger hits you as he yells, it feels strange and powerful and alien, like it’s not even yours.

You throw your hands up in the air, yelling back at him, “Why do  _you_  have to be like this?” You stand there, eyes darting back and forth as your chests rise and fall with heaving breaths. “I need some fresh air. I need some air.”

You stumble over your feet as you back out of his office. He lifts his palms in surrender, letting you walk out, shoulders flinching as he swallows thickly. As soon as you reach the hall, you fling yourself out the door and stomp to the elevators, riding the car down past your floor to the lobby. People push past you, arriving for their normal work hours, while you feel like you’ve been there for hours already.

In the crowd, you hear someone shouting. Not until someone snags your sleeve do you pay attention and realize it’s Charlie. She keeps repeating your name, pulling you from your tunnel-vision march out the doors.

“Hey, hey, where you running off to? The day’s just starting?”

Tears sting your eyes, “Charlie, I can’t. I - I can’t.”

“Okay, not here, let’s go.” She holds your arm tightly while guiding you outside, pulling until you reach a small park and before dropping you onto a bench. “Breathe. Can you breathe for me and calm down?”

You nod your head, letting a few teardrops escape as you attempt to hold back your outburst. Your chest aches with the constriction of your muscles and the beginnings of a headache is already throbbing in your skull from the clenching of your jaw. Slowly, you try to focus and force yourself and your body to relax and calm down, watching as Charlie breaths with you like a lamaze coach.

“Okay, so, what is going on?” she asks once you seem able to speak again. “You look awful.”

You toss a glare her way and she cringes an apology. “Thanks a lot. I’m just exhausted. Benny kept me up like all night.”

She flinches like she’s about to freak out.

“Not like _that_!” you shout, then lower your voice as you look around, grateful for the empty space. “I was up late arguing with him and my parents. They sent him to stay with me.”

“For how long?”

“Like, to stay. He’s my chaperone for as long as I’m here.”

“Oh, no.” She leans back, her shoulders slumped as she takes in the bad news.

“Yeah. If you can’t tell, I couldn’t exactly convince them to back off. I slept like garbage last night, but then starting thinking that maybe it was a good thing having him there. Practice for when we’re married.” She opens her mouth, but you push on, keeping her from interrupting you. “So anyway, I get to work this morning and there’s a note from Dean, wanting to talk with me. I get up there and it’s like, it’s- it’s so different.” You sigh, “But then he tells me I’m working with him now. He just went and changed my job on me, and then tries telling me that he thinks we’re True Mates. And I just can’t do this.”

“But, okay with Dean, that’s a good thing. Isn’t it?” She practically bounces in her seat from excitement.

“How? You already know about my family. This doesn’t end well for me.”

“And they’re not here. You told Dorothy and me about your cousin and how she’s got her happy ending, and her alpha, and her own life. All on her own. You have the chance for that. And you wouldn’t really be alone, would you? True Mates and all, you have your Alpha right here for you.”

“What, so someone else can control my life? Leave one controlling relationship for another?” Your chin quivers, threatening tears again as you go quiet.

“No, no,” she soothes, “Dean wouldn’t be like that. You’ve got time to figure it out, make your own clean break.” She wraps an arm over your shoulders, gently rocking you while you sniffle.

The sounds of the city traffic fill the silence as you sit there, desperately trying to figure out your next step.

 _Time to figure it out, make your own clean break. Time to figure it out…_  It repeats like a mantra. Like puzzle pieces, the ideas come together right in front of you.

“I can do that. Charlie! I can figure it out. I can choose.”

She eyes you, suspiciously, “What do you mean?” She asks as she pulls away to look at you.

“I’m just saying, I don’t know how I really feel about either of them. At home, Benny was pushed on me by our parents. Here, hormones pushed me and Dean together, but there’s no reason why I can’t choose for myself.” Charlie’s expression shifts from curious to alarmed. “I mean, who says I need to give up my life? I can take the suppressants. Benny doesn’t know anything about that, and I can keep it that way.”

“This sounds like a bad idea. I’m not sure where this is going, but it sounds like a really bad idea.”

“No, really Charlie. Why can’t I take the suppressants and just figure it out? I can have Benny at home and Dean at work. It makes total sense!”

You can’t help the excitement rising in your tone, feeling like you’re making perfect sense. You sit there, watching her process it all, her face going from surprise to sadness.

“I get what you’re saying, but how will you keep this secret?” She bites on her lip with concern, letting the meaning of her words slip through on her body language.

“Oh shit, Charlie. Okay, I know Dean is your friend. I won’t ask you to do anything or run interference at all, but just don’t say anything? That’s all, just please, let me figure this out my way? Please?” you plead, voice strained and desperate.

She looks away, watching people and cars go by, staring into the wide office windows high up from the street. Your hands start to fidget as minutes tick by, your skin heating up as you worry that you’ve pushed her too far. You clear your throat, ready to apologize, but she speaks quietly.

“Okay. I won’t say anything, but I really think this is a bad, really bad idea. But, I am your friend, so, how are you going to do this?”


	7. Chapter 7

Ignoring the bewildered looks you get as you storm through the halls, you continue to whisper words of encouragement to yourself. “Okay, you can do this. This is a good plan. Just stick to your script and get through today. You. Can. Do. This.”

_Shit_ , you stop just short of Dean’s office door, d _eep breath. Do it now._

“Alright,” you declare as you walk back into Dean’s office. With wide eyes, he looks away from his computer monitor, frozen for a moment with his mouth hanging open.

“Ye-yeah, I’m here. I’ve gotta call you back.” You shrink back a bit as you realize you interrupted his call, confidence deflating a bit as he taps on his earpiece and pulls it away. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks.”

You both pause.

“So, you were saying?” he asks, and you stand there for a moment, waiting for an outburst.

“Right. Yeah. Well...alright.”

“Alright?”

“Yes, I’ll take the job. Okay? We can work together, or me for you, or however this is set up.” You hold up a hand to keep him from interrupting. “But I have conditions.”

“I should have expected you wouldn’t make it easy, let me have it,” he laces his fingers behind his head as he leans back on his chair, confidence already shining through.

“Fine. Number one…”

Dean doesn’t fight you on your terms, and gives you the day to get your stuff together and moved to his office. You catch him staring at you and smiling from time to time, but you try to keep your face neutral, letting him know you mean business. Benny only reaches out to you once during the day, to ask if you’d be back for dinner. The drive home leaves enough time for your insides to twist and churn as your nerves flare.  _One down, one to go._

Opening your door, you’re immediately greeted by the rich smell of food - something buttery and savory. You can’t help but close your eyes and breathe it in deeply, letting the aroma settle on your tongue until a voice interrupts your enjoyment.

“Y’okay?”

You quickly deflate as you squeal in surprise. “Yeah,” you giggle with nervous embarrassment. “Just smells so good.”

He wipes his hands with the towel he’d slung over his shoulder, a shy grin on his lips.

“Well, good. I was hopin’ we could make up over dinner. Come on, it’s just ‘bout done.”

You give him a hesitant, but grateful smile and follow him to the kitchen, sitting when he gestures to one of the chairs. He goes to the stove, stirring and adjusting temperatures, talking with his back to you. “How was work?”

Your eyebrows lift,  _Jumping right into it, I guess._  “Good. Uhh, very good. I got...sort of a promotion.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, well, it’s more of a new assignment. I’m working with one of the department directors.” you tell him as he plates up the food and walks over. He pauses once he’s close enough, and you can hear him draw in a breath.

“Alpha?” he asks flatly.

You square your shoulders. “Yes, he’s an Alpha,” you say defensively. “But, I’m safe. It’s work, and there are Alphas and Betas and Omegas all over the place.”

“Chere…” he trails off as sits on his chair, but you stop him.

“Benny, hang on. I know what you’re gonna say. I get it, you’re concerned, but work is work and it’s handled. I thought a lot about things today and...well...it’ll be nice having you around. We’ve never really had a chance like this to get to spend time and work on our relationship.”

He keeps still, caught in obvious surprise, but a grin still manages to find its way to his face. “Y’right. Well, that’s some good news.”

“I thought so too, but I have some boundaries I’d like to set up until we get more comfortable.”

He nods, “Still waitin for the bad news. What do you have in mind?”

You shove a bite of food into your mouth to stall for a moment, which turns out to be a huge mistake. The meat he cooked is perfect and practically melts in your mouth. After a long, drawn out moan of satisfaction, you wipe at your lips, before starting the conversation.

“First things first. If you’re gonna start by making food like this, you better be ready to cook dinner every night, because, dear lord, is this good.”

He chuckles and looks down humbly, “S’nothing. I’m happy to do it. What else you got on your ‘Honey Do’ list?”

* * *

 

‘So, what about weekends?’ Charlie texts. As you laid in bed, you updated her on how they both responded and how the rest of your day had gone.

‘What?’

‘What are you doing on weekends? Like, splitting the time? I’m sure they’re going to want to try to take you out.’

You draw in a deep breath before typing, ‘I don’t know, Charlie. Sleep? I’m so tired.’

‘Already?’ she replies. A day into your arrangement, and you already feel exhausted. The anticipation from waiting to find out if they’d both agree had your adrenaline pumping all day long. Then on top of that, there was the move from your cubicle to Dean’s office, and dinner with Benny, and long conversations to smooth things over with your parents.

‘Juggling two men starting to get to you?’ She teases with a winking face at the end of the text, but your stomach turns at just how right she is.

You send her an angry emoji, then reluctantly follow up with a quick ‘Yes.’

The routine seems easy enough - work, lunch with Dean, more work, home, dinner and nights with Benny. The rules are simple too - no intimacy to keep your body from clouding judgment, no unscheduled dates to keep any surprises from popping up, and general personal space boundaries were set for both men.  _I didn’t think about the weekends...shit._  After a few minutes of thinking and coming up with absolutely nothing, you throw in the towel.

‘I’m going to bed. If you’ve got any bright ideas, I’d love to hear them.’

“I’ve already told you, this whole thing is a bad idea.’ she responds before you can even set your phone down.

‘Yeah. You’ve said that. Good night.’

By some stroke of luck, the next morning Benny informs you he’s heading home for that weekend. “I kinda just dropped everything and came out here. Got a few things to take care of and stuff to pack. Gotta figure out how I’m gonna work from here. Y’know, if you wanted to come with, I’m sure your folks would love to see you.”

You snort out a small laugh. “I appreciate the offer, but no. I’m ready to relax and honestly, I don’t think my dear mother would let me leave again if I walk through the door.”

He nods as a small grin appears on his face. “Probably right about that. Will you be okay by yourself?”

His concern warms you and pulls at your heart a bit. “Yes, I’m gonna be fine. I’ve got everything under control.”

You decide to stop by Charlie’s cubicle before heading up to Dean’s office for the day.

“Problem solved,” you announce.

“What problem?” a deep voice asks, making you stop as you glance between Charlie and Dean, the partition to her cubicle had hidden him until you were right there. Her expression is cautious but encouraging.

“Oh. Well...my weekend plans changed. That’s all.” You quickly plaster on a smile.

“So, you’re free then?” The smirk on Dean’s face doesn’t go unnoticed. “I was just here trying to convince Charlie to talk you into going out with me this weekend.”

You look to Charlie, her eyebrows lifted expectantly and her shoulders slumped in discomfort, clearly hoping you’ll get her out of the middle here.

“Dean, why don’t we head upstairs?” You tip your head to the elevators. “I’m sure Charlie doesn’t need us bugging her all day, right?”

After a quick goodbye to a relieved-looking Charlie, the two of you make your way to Dean’s office, his scent knocking you back a bit, as he opens the door.  _Guess I need to get used to that,_  you think as you fight back a shiver. You hear him inhale deeply right behind you, before he walks around you and settles at his desk.

“So, the weekend?”

“Well, Dean, we’re already having lunch together every day. You’re not trying to renegotiate the terms of the deal already, are you?” you ask with an air of authority.

“No, but I’d like to get to you know outside of my office,” he presses.

“Well, we can go downstairs to the cafeteria,” you defer, foot bouncing and pen tapping away against the pile of folders on the desk.

“Why are you so nervous?” he asks, reaching forward to hold the pen still.

“What?”

“I can feel it. Plus, you’re fidgeting.”

Oh. “I uh…,” you laugh nervously as you scramble for an excuse. “Sorry, bad habit I picked up from my dad. I just - I don’t want to be  _that girl_  around here?” He looks at you with question marks practically appearing in the air around him. “I don’t want to be the girl who sleeps her way through the office.”

“Hey, work is work, remember? Nothing’s happened on the clock here. We can be good. So, let me take you out, off the clock, so that maybe we could have a little more fun?” He finishes with a wink.

Your body fights against you, as you try to keep down your excitement. “Fine. But, we’re going out...in public...and my distance rule still applies,” you point at him, almost scoldingly.

“Yes, ma’am. You bossy little Omega,” he mutters, a grin on his face the whole time.

“You know it, you big baby of an Alpha,” you mutter before catching yourself. Clearing your throat and shifting upright in your seat, you settle yourself into business mode. “So, what’s on the agenda today?”

* * *

 

The days go by quickly, sometimes too quickly, and before you know it, two weeks have passed since Benny moved in and the start of the arrangement. You’ve managed to keep up the double life, thanks to a whole lot of luck up to this point. The first weekend, Benny went away, leaving you a chance to spend time with Dean. He’d taken you out to a museum, impressing you with his knowledge of history and quirky American folklore. Afterwards, you talked him into taking you to a pub to keep the date going. He complained a little bit that the food there wasn’t part of his cleanse, but changed his tune once the food arrived. You’d never heard a man moan like that over a burger, and at the end of the night, you let him hold your hand.

The second weekend Dean had some golf outing planned with some of the other guys from the office, and you managed to assure him you were too tired to do anything anyway; that Netflix and the couch called your name. It wasn’t far from the truth, except that you had Benny keeping you company the whole time. As the hours ticked by, you quickly discovered that while you’d known him for years, you hadn’t paid him as much attention as you should have. He could quote Socrates, and knew quite a bit about classical music. He’d picked up cooking as a kid when his old man had punished him for something he didn’t even remember, and discovered he liked being in the kitchen. The he got a little older, and in a young man’s act of rebellion, he’d gone off and joined a boat crew, sailing around the world for a while.

“How did I not know about this?” you asked, marvelling at some of the scars he’d shown you that accompanied a story about the crew getting attacked.

“Probably, because you always just saw me as a business partner.”

He said it without a hint of malice or pain, but it drew out your guilt all the same. “Well, it’s not exactly like my folks advertised it as much else, but Benny, I’m sorry.”

“S’alright. I’m just glad to get a chance to change that,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his warmth. You tested his hold a little as you shifted, his arm not budging. It made you swallow nervously, but in the butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of way.

“I wonder how our families are coping, with us being like this, unmarried and all? They’re usually so - traditional.”

“There’s worse things,” he said with a shrug. “I’m just glad I’m here.” His fingers started to trace patterns against your skin. The light tickling, combined with his warmth lulling you into a feeling of ease.

You sighed and sank further into him. “Me too, Benny. Thank you.”

* * *

 

You finally manage to get some time with Charlie into your schedule, meeting for coffee one morning before work. Grateful for the caffeine boost, you greedily gulp down the hot drink as she watches you.

“How long do you plan to keep this up?”  _God, she sounds like somebody’s mother,_  you think as you roll your eyes.

“I-I don’t know. Until I...know...I guess.” You make a face at your own confusion.

“Okay, well how about this? What if something happened to both of them, and only one of them survived, first thought, who is it?”

Before the question is even finished, you think of an answer, but start to shake your head. “Oh, God. I can’t. Charlie, that’s...that’s no way to think about this. Okay, so Dean is that guy, I mean obviously there’s attraction and he’s great and all, but it’s like he’s from some dream guy factory. Like, never thought that would be an option. Not that it’s a problem. But Benny, he’s so good...he’s just as important to me, just in different ways. I had no idea we had so much in common and he’s so careful and sweet. And there’s attraction there too, except we haven’t slept together  _yet._ ”

“Is that what’s holding you off from deciding? You wanna compare them in bed?” she stares at you skeptically.

_Maybe._

“God! No!” you shout, then lower your voice to a hiss as your cheeks burn from the dirty looks of people around you. “No. We just have different, ummm, connections?”

“Well, the clock is ticking. Your heat will be back in a few weeks and suppressants can only do so much. You can’t live like this forever,” she reminds you as you both start to gather your things.

“I know,” you state with a sigh.

Charlie, being the sweet friend that she is, continues to check on you daily, asking for updates. She makes sure you’re feeling okay and seeks out the latest juicy details to try and push you to make your decision. You love her for it, and answer everything, with just a smidge of omission.

What you don’t tell her is how you stopped taking the suppressants, thinking it’s silly to take them when you’re  _mostly-fairly-kinda_  confident that you don’t really need them.

You also don’t tell her about how they both complained about the ‘office smells’ so you started bringing in clothes and changing at the gym before and after work. The simple solution thankfully eases the tension from the first few days when Benny seemed agitated and almost nauseated by the scents, while Dean had been on edge and irritable.

You definitely don’t tell her how you used her as an excuse to get to spend time with Dean the weekend after your Netflix binge.

And for better or worse, you don’t tell her about how you’re bending your own rules, and finding yourself close to crossing the lines with the both of them each and every day.

Work unexpectedly picks up when a huge, new client practically falls into Sandover’s lap. It launches everyone into worker bee mode. Lunches with Dean end up being postponed and cancelled as he gets pulled into meetings and client luncheons. The flirting is replaced by researching and accounting, and reports and presentations. The days fly by, making you feel a little robotic as you go through the motions, but it’s satisfying knowing that you’re contributing. Dean guides you through the chaos, encouraging you and taking care of you throughout it all, tugging at your heartstrings with each new day. When you get home, Benny is almost always waiting, and spends the nights helping you to relax and recover from the stressful and exhausting work days, often by cooking with you and endearing himself to you further.

Before you know it, another two weeks have passed. The hard work pays off, too, when the client signs off on all the contracts. Mr. Adler can be heard shouting from his office across the hall before he flings open the door to Dean’s office, his voice high and smile wide as he shares the news.

“- And drinks at Chuck’s. I expect you both there!”

Before you can respond, he’s gone. Confused, you turn to Dean and ask, “Chuck’s?”

“It’s a little bar down the street, it’s tradition to go down there and celebrate, he explains, lounging back in his chair. “It’ll be a good time.”

You suck in a breath through clenched teeth while a thrill of excitement runs down your spine as you watch him stretch out and imagine the long, lean muscles underneath his fussy work clothes. The idea of letting loose sounds good, and you take a deep breath as you try to drop the stiffness from your shoulders. During the last several weeks, the tension between you and both Dean and Benny has kept you from ever fully relaxing. Not that you’re blameless, you’ve been trying to find ways to be close to them without actually crossing the line you drew in the sand, finding satisfaction and comfort with both of them. Neither of them seem to mind, as they both have a hard time keeping their hands to themselves, from a gentle touch on your lower back to guide you through a doorway, or the way fingers trace patterns on your skin when sitting with you. Or like right now, when Dean stares at you, licking his lips as though he can still taste you.

That look, it gets you. Every time. Typically, it sends a rush of excitement through you, until your brain catches up and you pull yourself back from reciprocating, and instead reprimand him with a stern voice.

Today, however, it’s a little harder to rein it in; that flash of satisfaction and excitement that comes with being obviously desired. The light headed rush blurs your focus, and there’s a low heat simmering in your muscles, fanned by the butterflies in your stomach that you can’t seem to calm. Frankly, you don’t want to, the feeling is too good to push away.

_Fuck those butterflies...or Dean. Oh, god. Dean._

“Dean,” you utter, your body sagging as you submit to to feeling of muscles warming over.

If he hears the hint of desperation in your voice, he doesn’t acknowledge it. “I know, work and home time are separate, but Adler won’t take no for an answer, and neither will I. You worked too hard to not come out and celebrate and get a few well-deserved congratulations. You understand me?”

Almost in a daze, you nod. Logically you realize that your thoughts are coming to you at an agonizingly slow pace, but the rest of you doesn’t care enough to give it more than a passing thought.

“I understand. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

The bar is small, with high-backed booths and a small stage, painted brick walls, and single lamps at the tables. It’s quaint, comfortable, and Chuck welcomes nearly everyone by name. Adler starts the festivities with the first round of drinks. 

The alcohol flows, the music plays, Chuck even gets out from behind the bar to play a few songs while everyone laughs, and hoots and hollers, patting each other on the back and dreaming of all the extra zeroes the deal means for their bonus checks.

Dean stays by your side as you sip at your drink. The two of you sit side by side in a booth, his hand resting protectively around you as the crowd continues to grow and get more and more wild. He smiles, and nods, and laughs at the right moments, but seems to be holding back from celebrating as much as the others.

“What’s wrong?” you speak softly into his ear. He shakes his head as his eyebrows pinch together. “You don’t have to babysit me, you can go have fun.” You nudge his side with your elbow.

“I’m good, been to these enough times to know that soon the ties will be gone, more people will start to show up, they’ll convince Chuck to start up the karaoke machine, and that tomorrow everyone will pretend to not be as hungover as they actually are.”

“So why stick around?” you glance around the room before turning to look at him. His elbow is propped on the tabletop, his body turned into yours, eyes a little hazy from the liquor, but staring at you intensely.

“Because you’re here.” Your heart skips a beat and a shiver runs down your spine.

In the span of only a few seconds, your mind considers how easy it would be to slide over the last few inches, to stretch your leg over his lap and straddle his hips. To let him dig his fingertips into your skin and grip at your hair while the two of you grind against each other and ease the tingling, nagging need that’s been making your panties wet for the last several hours.

You quickly swallow the drool that’s gathered by your gums, “Dean, why are you doing these things for me?”

He lowers his voice as he answers, “Because you’re my Omega. It’s my job to take care of you. There’s nothing I won’t do for you. I just want to be with you, and I’m going to show you how real all this is.”

_Your Omega. My Alpha._  It’s a whisper, but feels like a shout ringing in your ears.

The alcohol, the tingling current running through your veins, the mixture of Dean’s warmth and scent - whatever it is, it destroys your inhibitions as you and Dean lean in together, lips meeting in an immediate frenzy. The rest of your limbs react a little slower as you inch closer together, his arm over your shoulders hugging you tight against him. Seconds, maybe minutes, go by until you get distracted by wolf whistles and a few sarcastic shouts of, ‘Get a room!’

You pull away and gasp for air while your heart races, your eyes dart around the room catching a few wide smiles and suggestive winks. The sweat that had broken out in excitement immediately burns cold with shock and embarrassment. Dean’s hands quickly scramble to hold you, his face showing none of the panic you feel.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he tries to calm you, but you push against him, shoving him out of the booth as you clumsily trip over yourself to get out of the seat.

“Not doing this here.” You grab your things ignoring the few lewd comments about the show being over, as you make your way to the door, Dean right on your heels the whole way trying to get your attention back to him.

As soon as the two of you get outside the doors, you turn on him. Sandwiching his face in your hands, you push him back into the wall, following him until your mouth is pressed against his already swollen lips. He freezes for a moment, keeping still while you ravage his mouth. You feel his hands gently reach for your hips, then after a few seconds they squeeze tighter while he groans into the kiss. 

_Yes. Yesyesyesyesyes._

“Oh,” kiss, “God,” kiss, “We should,” kiss, “Really stop,” kiss.

“I know,” he mumbles against your lips. His lips leave yours and follow a trail over your cheek, down your jaw and to your neck leaving kisses as he goes. He buries his nose by the edge of your hairline, scenting you with a satisfied hum while his lips work at your skin. Your eyes start to roll back a bit until you hear the soft snarl, and feel the smooth edges of his teeth, bared against your neck. Your chest heaves and your body curves a little until you start to feel his lips suctioned to your skin.

Your hands drop to his chest while you push yourself away from him again, trying to catch your breath, “No, really. We need to stop.” NO.

_No we don’t. Don’t stop._

His movements halt, his eyes search yours, testing your resolve. Your lip quivers slightly while your internal voice begs for him to just keep going, but he doesn’t. He tips his head back and squares his shoulders with a slight huff of annoyance.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes and no.” He lifts his eyebrows, encouraging you to go on. “It feels good.” His expression gives away that he doesn’t see a problem. “Too good. Like, I want to take you home, good. And it’s not fair to...”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just. I don’t want good sex to be the reason I want to be with you.” He smirks, immediately making you want to backtrack on your words, “Not that I want to - and, I mean, yeah it’s, we - shut up. I’m going home.”

You step to the curb, lifting a hand to hail a taxi. Dean quickly steps next to you.

“You’re close, though. I can smell it. I should probably help you?” He eyes you up and down, pausing purposely at the juncture of your thighs.

“Smell it? What? No!” you snap as the taxi comes to a stop. “That’s not -”  _Possible. How long’s it been?_  Distracted by your thoughts, you stumble a bit as you tug open the door. “No, Dean, go do whatever you were going to do tonight. I’m going home. It’s been a long day. You know?”

He grips the top of the car door tightly and nods. “Let me know when you get home safely, or if you need me tonight? Okay?” His face appears neutral, but his tone conveys just how displeased he is by your rejection.

You nod and ungracefully plunk down into the cracked vinyl seat. Dean closes the door for you and you stare in the side mirror as he watches the taxi take you down the street. For a second, you close your eyes, but when you feel everything start to sway, you peel them open again. You try to fight the effect of the alcohol and calm the buzzing feeling in your stomach.

Benny’s resting on the couch when you get in.

“How was it?” he calls as you make your way immediately to the bathroom.

“Good,” you call back before slamming the door so you can pee and take off your underwear, wet and uncomfortable from your slick. You start to wash up, noticing the makeup smudging a bit at the corners of your eyes, and the lack of anything on your lips - kissed away by Dean. You scrub yourself clean and try to get yourself in check before opening the door again, noticing that Benny still hasn’t moved, too engrossed in some cheesy vampire movie on the tv.

You watch him from the hallway for a few minutes, admiring his rugged looks, his easy smile and the thickness of him, like a big teddy bear. A true gentle giant, with a kind, understanding heart and underestimated intelligence. He’s got the iciest blue eyes you’ve ever seen that stare at you like you’re some kind of marvel. Like he can’t get enough of you.  _Just like right now._

“Shit,” you mutter, realizing you’ve been caught.

He continues to grin at you. “Y’okay there, darlin’? I mean, not that I mind, but you keep starin’ at me like that, and I just might try to sweep you off your feet.” He speaks slow and smooth and, thanks to that accent of his, it’s all charm and makes you feel a bit giddy. Your mind switches focus solely to that feeling, and how it makes your breathing labored, and blood pulse hard, rushing to join the throbbing between your legs.

You drag your hands slowly up your own sides, savoring the feeling and remembering the feeling of hands roaming over you not more than twenty minutes before. You watch Benny’s eyes as they follow your fingers, now trailing over the buttons of your shirt.

“Who says you haven’t already?” you ask as you push a button through the loop.

Benny huffs hard through his nose, a breath of frustration and restraint.

“What about your, uh,  _rules,_  Chere?”

You pop another button. “I don’t know, Benny…” you push another button through its hole. “I mean, I’ll stop if you want me to.”

He leans forward, his hand held out while he shakes his head, “No, no. Don’t need to stop, sugar. Just wonderin’ what’s gotten into you?”

_I want._

You step toward him as you continue to slowly peel off your shirt. “I don’t know, but I feel good. And I want you to feel good, too, because you are good. You’re a good man with a good heart, and maybe I haven’t been fair to you.”

“Y’ain’t drunk, are ya?” he asks playfully while he squints at you.

You pause to consider it, looking up to the ceiling while you think. You can only remember nursing two drinks.  _So, no, not drunk. Just really turned on._  “Nope,” you says confidently.

His cheeks are a little flushed and he’s got a hungry look in his eyes. “Well, com’ere darlin’, I won’t bite.”

You gasp at his choice of words, rolling the muscles of your neck while you squirm at the ghost sensation of teeth against your skin.

_Want - wantwantwant._

“Oh, honey,” you drop the shirt before settling on your knees and straddling over his lap, “Where’s the fun in that?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, life got really hectic and kept me from doing much. Hope you enjoy this chapter. I always welcome and appreciate feedback and constructive criticism.
> 
> Also posted on tumblr @butiaintgonnaloveem

His hands settle on your hips, not gripping, just holding and letting you continue with whatever you plan to do.

“Hmmm, sugar, that’s what’s been hidin’ underneath all them clothes? Damn shame.”

A slightly embarrassed, shy grin tugs at the corner of your mouth and you duck your head down to hide it. “You’re nothing but a big ol’ sweet-talker,” you tease as you push his shoulder.

“Sweet-talking, but not bull-shitting. I promise you that.”

He leans in to place a kiss over your chest, right between your breasts. The heat of his breath and the gentle touch of his lips makes you shudder.

“Well, in that case, please do go on,” you say with an exaggerated wink, settling into your position straddled over him.

He looks up at you from your chest, eyes communicating hunger and lust as his hands slide across your ass. His eyebrows arch up in surprise, “You even wearing underwear?” he asks, his tone teasing.

“Nuh-uh. I didn’t feel like it anymore.”

He draws in a breath through his nose and drags his hands higher, burning over the skin and muscles of your back. The touch makes your skin tingle and muscles squirm, back arching and pushing your breasts against his face, causing you both to moan.

Suddenly, the slow drag of the moment disappears and his hands pick up the pace working at the clasp of your bra, the material pulling away as you lean back and drop your shoulders, letting the straps fall one by one. His palms follow the lines of your ribs until he reaches the front and pulls the rest of it down your arms, then tosses it to the side of the couch.

“I always thought you were beautiful, but this,” his eyes drag over your skin, “Hmm, I had no idea what beauty was until this moment.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the huge, embarrassed smile from breaking over your face. One of his hands cups your face, thumb caressing over your lips and then skin, “Nope. Nah, none of that. You obviously ain’t heard that enough, but I’m telling you sugar - you are unbelievable.” He doesn’t even completely finish talking before his mouth is on you, lips and tongue tasting your skin and humming his deep satisfaction. His hands work in tandem to massage and paw at your hips, your back, your shoulders - anywhere he can reach while his mouth moves over your chest; tongue taking its time as he swirls it around your nipples before tilting his head up again to meet your lips in a hungry kiss.

Your knees slide further apart and dig into the cushion of the couch until your thighs settle on top of Benny’s, the seams of your slacks pull as you spread yourself over him, rubbing against him shamelessly. Your body past the point of propriety or shyness, you roll your hips over him in a steady, riding motion sending tiny bursts of pleasure through you with each stroke against your clit. The slight sliding spreading your wetness all over the inside of your pants.

Benny’s hand slides between you to shift himself into a more comfortable position. If his grunts and moans are anything to go by, he’s just as eager as you are to enjoy the benefits of you grinding yourself against his cock. When his knuckles graze your wetness, you hear him gasp. He turns his hand over so that his fingertips rub through the growing wet spot.

“Damn, chere. That all for me?”

_No. Fuck. But I can pretend._

He adds extra pressure and you groan at the feeling, grinding hard against him and focusing on the pleasure you’re feeling humming through every nerve.  “Come on, Benny. I wanna fuck,” you whine.

He practically purrs beneath you, his beard scrapes against your skin as he drags his mouth across your chest until he catches your nipple in his mouth. Your body jolts at the feeling, instinctively rising up and pulling away from the sudden burst of pain mixed with intense pleasure as he teases it between his teeth. His hands find your hips again and hold onto you tightly, pulling you down to rub against his hard length. A high-pitched gasp escapes as you grind your clit against the thick, long bulge in his pants.

You both start to breathe heavily, enjoying the feeling as his hips lift a little to meet yours every time you swivel them back and forth. Each pass feels so good, making your pussy quake with little bursts of pleasure, encouraging you to pick up the pace to reach that peak. As you quicken your movements, your hips get looser and you circle them a little with each press down, building to that deeper release.

“Keep going, chere. Y’feel so good,” he mumbles. “Smell so sweet.”

Wrapping one hand around his head, the other digs in between his shoulder blades, holding him in place while you rub against him harder and harder. Your fingers bunch up the material of his shirt, holding him desperately while you give your body what it wants. His grunts are muffled every time he finds a new patch of your skin to latch onto. Benny nuzzles into your breasts, his hands pressing tightly against your hip bones, his hips still lifting to rub against you as he mutters against your skin, damp from his heavy, hot breathing beneath you.

“So good.” “Want you.” “That’s it.”

You pant, your head thrown back as you stare, unfocused on the ceiling above you. As the pleasure grows, your pants turn into whines and grunts of your own, chasing that pleasure, aching to hit that right spot, pressing and grinding harder and harder. Your pussy flutters, and the wet spot spreads, the damp material of your pants spreading and cooling on your skin.  _More. Just a little more. So fucking close._  You keep grinding, seeking that perfect pressure point that floods your body with pure fucking joy. Finally pushing yourself over that edge with a heaving breath of relief until you start to gasp for air as your muscles start to go limp, letting the tiny jolts of pleasure rush through your veins until even your fingertips tingle.

”God! Yes!. So good,” with your head still thrown back, your voice comes out raspy as you half giggle, half moan, “So fucking good, Al-” A scorching hot wave of shock catches you before the finish the word.

_Benny. Shit. Not alpha. Say something else._

“Al - Always knew you were so fucking good.”  _God, I hope he didn’t catch that._

You go quiet for a few long seconds, trying to gauge his reaction, but he still feels relaxed beneath you, his tongue still focused on toying with your nipples.

“Benny,” you breathe, looking down at him as he pulls away with a soft smacking sound, eyes droopy with lust and his lips swollen and red. “Kiss me.”

A mischievous smile lights up his face. His hands spread to cover your back and before you can brace yourself, he’s tilting you to the side, using his strength to practically toss you down onto the empty couch cushions and moving to lie between your spread legs. A fit of laughter follows your high-pitched squeal of surprise. He pulls his hands out from beneath you, tickling you and making you smack at his wrists between giggles until he plants them at your sides, sinking you both into the cushion.

He swiftly dips his head down, pressing his lips against yours. After only a few seconds, your tongues meet and your hands are roaming over him, circling around his thick arms, and kneading into his shoulders. He doesn’t settle his full weight on you, but lets himself rest against you, and sets your mind off with fantasies of being held down down by firm strength, engulfing your body with all his heat and skin and muscles, and suddenly it’s not Benny you’re imagining.

You pull away, kissing along his cheek to plead in a husky whisper, “Come on, Benny.”

Your hands start to scramble for the hem of his henley to pull it up and off.

You feel him smile against your jaw, and then a hot puff of breath that sends a tingle down your spine. You twist your neck back as you roll your body with the sensation. “Yes, yes,” you whisper again. “More.”

He leans away from you, his hands wiggling a little until he catches your wrists, pulling them away from his shirt and up over your head. Your mind starts to short-circuit, a constant cycle of “Yes. More. Submit.” on a loop in your brain and half-formed as whimpers and whispers on your lips. Benny growls against you, taking his time to place kisses against your lips, teasing with his tongue before covering the line of your jaw with the same treatment, then your ears, nibbling and ticking your earlobes and savoring the way your body wriggles when he finds that spot on your neck by your hairline.

You twist your head, baring the other side of your neck, begging for the same treatment when you feel him still against you, his voice a slur when he speaks, “S’that?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s this?” he takes a hand off your wrist, bringing his fingers to your neck to trace a circle against the delicate skin there.

“What’s what?”

“This mark on your neck. Looks like a hickey.”

Your skin flushes with panic, “Yeah, and we’ve been making out for the last half hour, I don’t really care if you leave a few love bites.” You bring your hand to the back of his head to push it against your skin, encouraging him to continue.

He holds still, pushing back against your hand. “I  _do_ , and that ain’t from me,” he says flatly.

The room feels like it starts to spin as everything crashes around you. Your eyes going wide as you try to focus your thoughts and make sense of anything.

“Huh?” Very eloquent.  

“I don’t mark my territory, that’s for teenagers and all that alpha bullshit.” He says, pushing up and off of you, his voice rough with anger.

Your lips gape like a fish as you try to come up with something to say. Looking down at yourself, you see your skin agitated from beard-burn, but like he said, no marks - no teeth, no bruising, nothing.

“So, what’s all this? Huh?”

“It’s - it was…it started, but then I decided I shouldn’t and came home.”

He juts out his jaw, sucking in a loud breath through his teeth, “So you felt guilty and came home for me to finish you off?”

“I - no - I mean, it’s not like that. I came home for you.”

“Sure, you came home to me, but not to be  _with_  me.” He stands up and straightens out his clothes, kneading at his tense muscles as he starts to walk away, stopping after a few feet to address you again. “S’fine. You know, I get it. Sow your wild oats and get crazy before you get forced to settle down and all that, but don’t think you can just pull the wool over my eyes. I don’t play games. I’m here to be with you, when you’re ready to be with me, you let me know.”

He stomps off to his bedroom, leaving you to gather your clothes and slink away into your own room head hung low as sirens of embarrassment blast in your mind.

The next morning is a blur. Waking up, you still feel dizzy and irritated from the night before. When you finally look at the time, you realize you’ve overslept and rush to get ready to head into the office.

The idea of seeing Dean makes your stomach churn, so you delay the moment by bee-lining to Charlie’s desk instead, anxious to fill her in on all that had happened the night before. You go to text her a quick warning that you’re on your way, but can’t find your cell in the mess of your purse. She catches sight of you right away when you get off the elevator anyway, pulling you into a small, empty conference room nearby.

“Well, this doesn’t seem like it’s going to be good,” she says with a wince as she sits, then leans over to flip the collar of your shirt right-side-out.

“That obvious?” You ask, wishing you’d taken an extra moment in the mirror this morning. “God, Charlie, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” you whine, tears welling up in your eyes.

You slowly go through some of the details, ignoring her scowls and grunts of disapproval when you come clean about some of the rules being bent. By the time you get through everything from the night before, from Dean being all over you, to the intimate stuff with Benny, she looks just as worn out as you feel.

“Shit. That’s- I don’t know what to say. I really didn’t want to have to say that I told you so.”

“But you kind of did,” you wryly smile.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“No, you were right. This is a mess.” You hold your head in your hands, breathing heavily to try to hold back your tears.

“So, now what? All this time you had with both of them, did it help?”

“No…Maybe?” A heavy weight settles against your chest as you consider it. “I don’t know. They’re both… I could be happy with either of them.”

“Happy? Okay, but what about how you feel? What about love? What about happily-ever-after, my heart aches for you kind of feelings? Don’t you feel anything like that?”

“I-”

There’s a fast knock at the door before it flings open, Dean standing there with his laptop bag slung over his shoulders, anger evident in his posture and clenched jaw. He ignores the interested looks from the others in the office behind him, focused only on you. Your face burns with shock and embarrassment as Charlie stares wide-eyed between you.

Between clenched teeth she whispers, “I texted him you were here, sorry. Didn’t know it was this bad.”

“My office. Now,” he growls, reaching for your arm. You let him lead you away, head tilted down to avoid focusing on the judgmental looks and hushed whispers of your colleagues.

The elevator ride up the few floors is painfully tense and silent. The awkwardness continues until you stumble into his office, his hand practically tossing you inside as he turns to close and lock the door behind him.

“What the hell happened to you last night? You never called and never answered any of my calls. You know, you’re lucky I didn’t come break down your door to make sure you got home.”

“I,” you choke a little in surprise, “I was fine. I was just tired and I think I forgot my phone in the cab.”

His jaw remains clenched as he draws in air through his nose, eyebrows turned down in a scowl, “What’s that smell? It’s all over you.”

 _Shit! SHITshitshit._  You hadn’t been able to properly clean-up or change since leaving your house.

Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to figure out what to say. A gentle knock on the door gives you some reprieve and you gasp in a breath of relief for the interruption. Dean storms past you to open the door, greeting the person with in a terse tone, “Can I help you?”

“Hope so, chief, I’m lookin’ for Y/N.”

The voice is unmistakable - Benny’s low drawl. You want nothing more than a deep, dark hole to open up beneath you at that very moment.

“What for?” Dean asks, not opening the door further.

The strain in Benny’s voice is clear when he responds to the clearly angry Alpha, “In her rush outta  _our place_ , she forgot her phone. You must be Dean? The one who called about 10 times just this morning?”

That snaps you into action, sensing the impending escalation like static in the air. You plaster on a fake smile and squeeze into the space between them,putting a hand on Dean’s lower back, ignoring how he holds the door handle with a white-knuckle grip.

“Benny! Thank you, you didn’t really need to do that.”

“Seemed important,” he says, eyes focused past you and on Dean.

“You’ve no idea.” Dean replies. “Benny, huh? You’re the Beta she’s being forced to marry?”

_Where’s that sinkhole?_

An unamused grin appears on Benny’s face, “I’da thought you’d understand good business, but aside from that, yeah, she’s my fiance.” He finally turns his eyes to you, his gaze not giving away anything as you stare back like a deer in headlights. Their mingling scents cause your head to spin and stomach to lurch.

_Time to end this._

“Well. Um I guess. See you later, Benny? I-,” you laugh nervously, “I mean we, really need to get to work.”

“Sure, sure. I can tell work is important - to both of ya.” His eyes flick to Dean’s again, not in any challenging way, but his tone implies that he’s wary of the Alpha you’re with.

“Very important,” Dean replies in a flat tone, eyes focused on Benny.

“See you after work, darlin.’’ He leans in to kiss you, but you manage to turn your cheek to him at the last moment, feeling the rumble in Dean’s core. Benny pulls back, nodding at Dean with a stony expression before turning down the hall. Dean remains still as a statue behind you, waiting until Benny is out of sight before speaking again.

“Benny, huh?” he asks, mouth pursed in anger, “Well?”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times while you try to figure out where to even start. His chest heaves,as he crosses his arms. You watch as the fabric shifts beneath the suspenders. His usually clean-shaven face is rough with yesterday’s growth and there’s nothing but heat and dominance rolling off of him and it stirs arousal deep in your belly.

_Not now._

“Well?” he shouts.

“Well what? What do you want me to say?” you exclaim, holding out your arms.

“I want to know what is going on,” he says advancing forward a few slow steps. “You asked for privacy, and I gave it to you. You asked for time, which I also gave. You run away from me just before your heat, and then show up smelling like - smelling like someone else, and it’s,” he clenches his teeth, hissing out the next words, “It’s your sort-of fiance? A fucking Beta? I can put the pieces together, but I want to hear it from you..”

“He just showed up,” Dean tilts his head in disbelief, “Well, not  _just_  showed up, he got here just after my,” you clear your throat as you struggle to pronounce the next words, “My heat. Our families sent him, apparently not trusting me to be on my own. So, for my protection, they sent him to stay with me.”

“Protection? From the big bad Alphas huh?” He rolls his tongue around in his mouth, thinking over what you said. “And what? He doesn’t know? Can’t tell you’re an Omega?”

“No.” you suck in a shaky breath, “He thinks he scented Charlie when he got there. After that, I took suppressants for a while…Oh my god, he saw. What if he calls them?” Your face falls as the possibilities run through your mind, “I have to go, Dean. I have to talk to Benny.”

You turn and practically run from the office, desperately pressing the elevator button, willing it to move faster,and cursing it for moving so slowly, when the doors finally close and the car starts its descent to the main lobby. Every second drags on and on as your anxiety builds, a light sweat breaks out over your skin. When the elevator finally opens, you push past the others waiting, eyes darting around trying to catch sight of Benny in the morning crowd. You finally see his blue cap on the sidewalk outside your office building and you run to him, pulling on his jacket when you catch up to him.

“Benny. Stop! Wait,” you plead, breathless from the effort of chasing him down.

“Yeah?”

He wears his best poker face, but you can see through it, his eyes showing his pain. You grip tightly to his hand, keeping him in place while your mind scrambles to come up with something to say. An apology? Asking him what he saw? Begging for forgiveness? Nothing seems right and you begin to stutter, “I..uhm…it’s just.”

“Tsk tsk tsk,” someone nearby scolds. Your head whips to the side, catching sight of Michael, the pushy alpha from your old department sauntering your way. A cocky grin reveals his white teeth as his eyes move from you to Benny, addressing the beta, “You know, pal, Smith won’t be happy about this. He hasn’t claimed her yet, but if you’re interested you should get in line. I’ve been trying to get a piece of this Omega ass since she started.” He accentuates his statement with a quick swat at the meat of your thigh.

“Get. The fuck. Away from me,” you hiss.

“Or what? You gonna have your beta bodyguard attack me?” He growls lowly, a sneer pulling at his lips as he directs it at Benny, “I think I’m good.”

“Damn animals,” Benny grumbles as he yanks himself away from you, storming off down the sidewalk. You watch him for a few steps before you even realize he’s going without you. Without even bothering to look at Michael, you toss a quick, “Fuck you” over your shoulder and jog after your fiance.

“Benny! Benny, hang on. Talk to me for a second, please?”

He spins on you, making you slam into his body with the abrupt stop. “Was all that true?”

“Huh?” you ask, eyes beginning to fill with tears. “I-I don’t know what you mean. He’s just some alpha that tried to hit on me.”

“Because you’re an omega, right? That’s true?”

“Can we get out of here and talk in private?” Your throat goes dry, mouth hanging open with words that won’t come out, can’t come out. Swallowing down the choking lump, your voice comes out as a desperate whisper, “Please, Benny. Not here. Let me explain.”

“No,” he yanks away from you. “No, you need to let me walk away before I say something I can’t take back.”

“Just - you can’t say anything to anyone, please?”

“What the hell am I even supposed to say?”

“Benny, please talk to me. Let me explain. Try to understand -”

“There’s nothing to understand.” he says, harsh enough to keep you from going after him again when he turns to walk away this time.


	9. Chapter 9

You don’t bother watching after him. Instead, wrapping your arms around yourself and focusing on the concrete, trying to force away the emotions threatening to burst free at a ny moment. A small crowd had formed and you can feel their eyes watching you. Th e morning air suddenly feels suffocating so you turn away and begin to walk. The direction isn’t significant, as long as it takes you away from the here and now.

You walk to burn away the nerves, the anger, the embarrassment, the guilt presses at your chest. . They all threaten to send your fists flying at anything in sight, Eventually it all does burn away, and your skin goes dewey with the effort, muscles tingling as you push hard with each step. Hours pass, your body aches and the sunshine turns into long, cool shadows between the buildings. The golden reflections on the windows turn to bright white rectangles, lit from fluorescent lights inside. You walk until the cool air finally breaks through and brings a chill, prompting you to find your way back to the office building to face whatever comes next.

It’s mostly empty, and you drag your sore and tired body through the building until you reach the office you’ve been sharing with Dean. A soft yellow light from inside lets you know he’s still there.

With your eyes downcast, you push the door open, and slowly shut it behind you. Leaning against it, you take your eyes off the floor, and nervously look up to see Dean staring at you. His lips are parted and his eyes are rimmed with red. Sadness and relief rolls off of him in waves, clear in the glassy look in his eyes.

“You’re okay,” he breathes out with a sigh.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” You answer softly, wary of any potential outbursts.

“You, uh,” he clears his throat, his voice taken on a harder edge than before. “I wanted to give you some time, and then you didn’t come back and you didn’t take your phone…” He trails off, tone wavering a little at the end.

The sound of disappointment in his voice is enough to make you hang your head in shame, “I’m sorry. I just needed to try to talk to him, and get him to understand. I didn’t want to tell my family. Then I needed some air to calm down and clear my head. ” 

Dean shifts from his chair, standing up and straightening his clothes before running a hand over his hair to smooth it . “And? Did it help?” 

“No,” you answer, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

You see him nod and move around to the front of the desk then lean against it, his fingers anxiously tapping against the edge. “Why haven’t I scented him?” 

You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat. Burning, prickling sweat breaks out all over your body as the truth trickles out, “I change my clothes. Before and after work. I didn’t mean for all this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was just trying to weigh my options,” you whisper, making his head snap up.

“Options?” he spits like an accusation. 

“Yeah. Options. Maybe you forgot that I’m not an idiot!” He gives you a disbelieving look which sends a wave of uneasiness to settle in your gut, but you continue, “Naive, unaware, ignorant, whatever makes you happy - sure. But I’m not stupid. I’ve looked into things. Did you know that plenty of omegas live perfectly happy lives with betas? That not every omega has to be with some alpha that  thinks she’s his property just because of her genes?”

“What the hell? Those omegas didn’t find their true mates. This is different. Really? You looked into things? You’re serious with this shit?” 

It’s a slight nod, but it’s enough of an answer. He turns away toward the windows, rubbing a hand over his neck, the other clenched into a fist. Restless, anxious energy setting him off to pace back and forth.

“What about your heats? Fuck, you’re almost in heat right now.” 

“You’re not my Alpha, why’s that your problem?” 

He whirls around on you, a fierce look on his features that’s frightening and exciting. Complete Alpha confidence and hunger in his gaze.  “I could be. Fucking should be.” 

“You’re not,” you point out.

“Damn it, yes I am and you know it,” he growls. His hands grab your arms, jostling you as he pulls you against him. He nudges his nose along the side of your neck, taking in your scent with a deep inhale. “Should be my scent all over you. Should be him ready to explode with jealousy. Should be my mark on your neck.” 

“I didn’t even sleep with him,” you confess, trying to sound annoyed, but it’s too breathy to sound genuine. 

“Oh, well, that’s a relief,” he snaps at you, sarcasm dripping with anger, as he pulls his head back to look you in the eyes.

“What do you want from me?” Your eyes dart back and forth between his, desperate for clarity. “I have nothing to offer if I give in to this. No family, no money, just a fucked up view of the world. I have nothing and nowhere to go.”

Dean’s  eyes close and his face scrunches up in a grimace as if you’d caused him pain with just your words. His hands move to cradle your cheeks and he leans his forehead against yours. You can feel the way his body tenses and nearly vibrates against you, muscles trembling with whatever he’s holding inside. He sucks in a deep breath and pulls away, forcing a bit of distance between you. All the while he continues to stare intently, his body slowly inching away before he finally speaks.

“God damn you’re making this so hard,” he whispers. “I know what this is, and I know what I want. It’s you - with or without your family or your status and money. I want my Omega.” 

He backs away until he reaches his desk. He pulls his suit jacket back on before picking up his bag and fiddling with the strap for a moment, “I’m not going to play any more games and I’m not pretending this is anything it’s not. I know you don’t want or need anyone telling you what to do. You need to decide. Not for me, or them. For yourself.” 

You’re frozen still in front of the door. He steps up close to you, and places a hand gently on your cheek. He nuzzles his nose into the other side of your neck scenting you as he makes a soft hum. 

“You wouldn’t have nothing, you know that, right? Charlie is your friend, you have your job, and I’d do anything for you. You’d have your Alpha,” he whispers. You can feel the sadness rolling off him, but can’t will yourself to do anything except follow his lead as he moves you to the side and pulls away. Without another look your way, he pulls the door open and stomps down the hall. 

You lean back, resting your head against the wall and stare at the ceiling, fighting tears for what feels like the millionth time that day. Once you’ve got your emotions bottled back up, you draw in a deep breath and glance around the familiar office. Nothing is out of place, nothing’s changed, but it feels different; your little bubble had popped, but even without it, it feels good to be there - familiar - like home. Dean’s scent - earthy, woodsy with some spice - permanently settled into everything. When you realize why you like it so much, the revelation forms quietly and slowly in your mind. It’s like you’re walking on your family estate, at the border of the garden near the pines. Your favorite place.

_ I’m such an idiot _ , it dawns on you and it’s hard to resist smacking yourself on the forehead. Gathering your things, you find your phone sitting on Dean’s desk, lined up perfectly next to the desk calendar, still blinking with notifications of missed calls. You ignore all of them, pulling up your contacts and hitting the call button.

“Oh my god, hi!” her enthusiasm draws out a small smile, your cousin, Anna’s, voice high-pitched and breathy as she greets you.

“Hey, Anna. Do you have some time to talk?” One of her kids shrieks in the background, but you hear her shush them and close a door..

“For you? Of course. You’re the only family I ever hear from.” She doesn’t sound sad, and you instantly wonder if you’ll ever feel the same.

“I don’t know how you did this by yourself, Anna, I am so so lost.”

“Did what? What’s going on?”

The tears finally fall, “I presented, Anna. I’m an Omega.” 

She gasps, but stays quiet, giving the statement a moment to sink in. “Tell me everything. Have you told your parents? You’re not hurt are you?” 

It’s a rushed conversation, as you rattle off the events of the last couple of months. Your cousin listens with a sympathetic ear, only interrupting with a few questions now and then.

“And this Alpha? How does he make you feel?”

“Like a crazy person,” you say, pulling a laugh from the both of you. “He kind of puts me on edge, like I’m always a little nervous with him, but at the same time I want that. That doesn’t even make sense.” You get up and pace in Dean’s office, smiling at the photos on Dean’s shelves.  

“Have you met other alphas?” she asks. 

Your nose scrunches up as you think of other alphas from the office, especially Michael, “Ugh. Yeah.”

She laughs quietly, “Not the same, huh?” You hum a quiet no. “Okay, I’ve got a weird question for you now. Can you answer something honestly?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“What does your Omega say?”

“What?” your face wrinkles with confusion. “I don’t get it.”

She huffs out a breath and you can image the exasperated look on her face about needing to explain this, “Like that little voice inside you, call it your instincts or whatever, but being an Omega, there’s a part of you that just knows what you want and need. I knew my Alpha was mine because of those feelings - like home, comfort, desire, fucking happiness - all rolled into one. It’s so cheesy, but I’m telling you it was like magic, like fucking Cupid shot me with an arrow and I couldn’t help myself. It was the same for him. We were made for each other and my inner Omega called out for him,” she sighs wistfully. “So, what does your Omega tell you?” 

  
  


Driving on autopilot, the radio , the sounds of the city and the traffic all turn into white noise around you while you make your way to the home you share with Benny, your stomach gnawing with dread.

With your keys in  your hand, you tap your knuckles against the hard surface. After a minute, the door cracks open, and Benny gives you a cold, blank stare.

“Don’t know why you’re knockin’, this is your house,” he says dismissively as he steps aside to let you in, his scent making you cough, suddenly unpleasant and stale to your extra sensitive nose.

“I didn’t know if it still would be.” 

“I haven’t said anythin’.”

“Why not?” you question him timidly. 

“Honestly? I don’t know.” He shakes his head as he stares at the floor, “I don’t know, chere. It should have come from you. I deserve to hear it from you. Damn it, I deserve to know it all, and how long you’ve been playing me.”

Tears well up, lingering along your eyelashes as your lips tremble and you choke down sobs. You cross your arms over your chest to cover yourself while you shuffle to lean against the wall.

“No, Benny, it’s not like that. I-I,” you stop, trying to figure out what to even say to him. Nothing sounds right.  _ I’m an omega. I was trying to fall more in love with you than with him. I’ve been trying to decide between two men I might be stuck with for life.  _ “I made some mistakes, and I just lost control, it was...there’s a connection...I just don’t know if I feel -” 

You can’t finish a single thought,  Y our mind races to put it all together, trying to put it nicely, trying to be honest, but you don’t even know what to be honest about. Benny stands at the other end of the room, lips in a tight line, chest huffing, but otherwise stiff and waiting for answers. His eyes bore into you as the silence drags on.

“How’s that even happen?” 

“I don’t know. It got triggered somehow. It doesn’t even really matter anymore does it? I just came to get my things.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I can’t be with you.”

“And who told you that? That Alpha?” He spits out the title. You remain still, afraid of the anger in his tone. “And you jus’ believed him? Let him take advantage of you like that? And then that other alpha on the street? You’re nothing but a piece of meat to them. Property to own and breed! Just the way he was looking at you...”

“Benny, it’s not like that,” you reply in your calmest tone.

“Were you gonna tell me? Bout him? Bout you? I know you don’t love me,” he says flatly. You open your mouth to argue, but he shakes his head to stop you, “I know it, but you could’ve. You were only gonna be stuck with me for the rest of your life because this was all arranged, but don’t rub this in my face. You’re Omega and you were lying to me, stringing me along.”

Trying to shrink as small as possible, you tuck your head against your chest, mumbling low, “I know, and I’m sorry.” 

“Wha t was your plan, were you gonna lie forever?”

Tears drip from your eyelashes, and you watch as the spots spread on the fabric of your clothes. You try to gather trying to gather enough strength to keep the shakiness from your voice. “I don’t know, Benny. I got here and it was all so strange, and the heat. God, how it hurt. I can’t control it - can’t control any of this, but I wanted to. For once, I wanted to control my life, and I don’t know what I would have done if Dean wasn’t here. Maybe go home, take suppressants and try to make you happy, make my parents happy. Who am I otherwise?” 

“And all this because of what some alpha says?”

Your head jerks to try to nod, but you don’t quite get there, words catch in your throat.

His lip curls into a snarl as he continues, one finger jabbing at the air to make his point, “You were raised to know better. You know the stories of the abuse, the beatings to keep them in line. How they keep them pregnant all the time, just breeding them like some puppy mill bitch. And the alphas? They get to do whatever and whoever they want, long as they get theirs. So, that’s who you chose to listen to? You know better!” 

“Benny, it’s not like that. There’s so much you don’t know. And Dean - he’s not like that.” 

“He’s Alpha, that’s just how they are.” He shifts a little from a tense, defensive look, to something much more sto ic. He moves toward you, pl acing a hand on your shoulder, talking to you in his placating business tone, “Know what? Why don’t we go on home and figure that out? Get away from all this, to let you think clearly with some fresh air and some familiar faces. I bet you’ll get all this cleared up and find out it’s been some mistake.” 

“And you’re different? DO you even hear yourself right now? Betas aren’t any better than anyone else. I’ve seen how my mother was treated - like some ornament for my father to show off when needed, always keeping up the family image, never stepping out of line. Your family’s the same. Don’t you dare try to deny any of that.” Your voice shakes with emotion, finger pointed at him in accusation. 

“Come on, now. You’re being ridiculous,” he shakes his head, “I’ve never treated you bad.”

“I know that, but…neither has Dean, and...” The anger deflates from you like a popped balloon, “You’re never going to understand, you can’t,” you whisper. 

“You need to get away from that Alpha, let your family sort you out.”  

“Benny,” you sigh shaking your head with a pained look on your face, “I can’t-”

“The hell you can’t, or is it that you won’t? You’re sick,” he runs a hand over your cheek and forehead, “Look at you, you’re feverish.” 

“I need him.” Your lower lip trembles as you look at him, feeling your heart physically ache in your chest. He pulls his hand away as though your fever burned him and rubs his fingers through his beard, looking off to the side in anger.

“So that’s that? That’s your decision? Dean - he ain’t just your boss.”

“He’s not my mate.” 

“But he would be, wouldn’t he?”

Again, you fall silent, unable to say the words you know will hurt Benny; avoiding outright calling Dean your True Mate. “Benny I - I can’t change this, and I’m so tired of fighting it. It’s not fair to you, and I hope you find a beta who will make you happy-” 

“Jus’ stop,” he holds a hand up to stop you, but doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’m done, there’s nothing left to say if you’re an omega. You want that life? Go on then. Whatever we had is done and I don’t want your pity.” 

Though he’s not your mate, the sting of rejection still hurts. “I’m just gonna, uhm, grab some stuff and get out of your way.”

“Just so y’know, I’m not defending you to your folks. I’m gonna go home and they’re gonna wanna know why you’re not with me. I ain’t a liar.” 

“There’s nothing to defend, I’m still me, but don’t worry, I’m not putting that on you. I’ll tell them.”  

Your body reminds you of the urgency of your situation with a sharp sting of pain. You rush into your room, grabbing some clothes and toiletries, shoving them all messily into the first bag you find. When you leave the room, Benny is still in the same spot you’d left him, leaning against the wall and staring at the floor with feigned interest.

“Bye, Benny,” your voice cracks. He doesn’t look up, and after a few moments of the tense silence, you turn on your heel and leave, lip caught between your teeth as you try to keep yourself from crying again. 

The whole drive over to Dean’s is excruciating. You grit your teeth through waves of cramps that make you tense up and keep you on edge. You curse every stupid traffic light that lengthens the journey. Sweat beads at your hairline, and makes the steering wheel feel sticky beneath your palms. The thought of Dean alone intensifying your heat with every moment.

His doorman calls up to inform Dean of your arrival before nodding to allow you into the elevator. The fabric of your shirt irritates your skin as your start to sweat through it, nerves making you pace back and forth in the elevator car as your ascend floor by floor. The elevator jerks to a stop before the doors roll open to a long, blank corridor. You follow the signs, chanting the unit number in your head so as not to mess it up. 

You stare at the little gold plaque with the number on it for an extra few seconds, before gently tapping your knuckles against the door . You jump, yelping at the sudden movement, as Dean immediately flings open his door, fan ning Dean-scented air your way. He looks a little startled to see you, and if it weren’t for nerves and shame, your muscles might’ve gone lax to let you collapse into him for relief.

It’s clear when your scent hits him, his mouth dropping open and shoulders rolling in an aggressive stance. He leans himself against the door frame, one arm propped at eye level, fist clenching into white knuckles, while his tongue sweeps across his lips.

“You’re in he at.” he says, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“And you’re here for me to help you?” He asks, eyes clenching shut and head shaking like he’s arguing with himself.

“I’m here because I need you.”

He growls so low it’s nearly a hum, then answers through grit teeth, “Your beta could’ve gotten you through it.” 

“No,” you reply sadly, shaking your head.

“Because he doesn’t want you?” he supplies, eyes focused on your feet as they shuffle back and forth.

“I don’t want  _ him _ . I need you.” He scoffs, followed quickly by a grunt.

“I need my Alpha.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

“Fuck,” he says on an exhale. His breathing speeds up, hands flex at his sides while the rest of him remains still in the doorway, “And when your heat’s over? Then what?”

 

“I don’t...I don’t know what happens from there, but Dean -” you almost whine, “I choose to be here. With you.”

 

A door down the hall clicks as it begins to open. Dean’s eyes flicker in the direction before you hear a low rumble sounding from deep in his throat, “Get in here.” He snags your wrist and yanks you inside, letting the door close behind you. He draws in a deep breath through his nose, but otherwise goes still as a statue. 

 

“Fuck,” he mutters again.

 

_ Too long. He’s stalling. _

 

A shock of cold doubt snaps your attention away from the pulsing, aching muscles between your hips. This was not the scenario you’d expected and rehearsed and imagined on your way here, and you clear your throat as you try to find your voice again.

 

“Isn’t...isn’t that what you wanted?” You twist your head to try to catch his eyes again, “I thought that’s what you wanted me to say.”

 

“No, that’s not…” he trails off, eyes searching the wall beside you for his next words. “It’s your heat-”

 

“Alphas take care of heats and Omegas,  _ I mean I, _ would take care of your ruts.”

 

“This isn’t just some business deal. I told you I’m done with the games. I need to know you mean it, that you want this. ” He swallows down more air, “You want my mark? To be mine? My Omega?” He raises his eyebrows just slightly as he waits for your answer.

 

You take a small step forward, “Jesus, Dean. I’m not-” You trail off with a sigh and set your bag down on the floor next to you before taking another small step closer, “You wanted me to choose, and I did. I’m trying to follow my instincts. Like everyone seems to wants me to.”

 

“Your instincts, huh?” He tilts his head to scent you, dragging his nose along your hairline. Your eyes roll back and your head follows the motion while your muscles turn to pudding.

 

“Yes,” you breathe, writhing between Dean and the door behind you.

 

“It’s not... _ barbaric _ ?” He pins your hips to the door with his, one hand reaching into your hair and pulling your head to rest against the door as well. His movements are stilted, restraint cracking his voice, “Animalistic? Giving into your nature? Your biology?  _ Now _ you need an Alpha?” He asks each question with a tease of his lips against your skin. Your body trembles, need and anticipation setting your nerves on edge. His nervousness throws everything off and lets doubt settle like a stone in your stomach.

 

“What?” you ask, addressing the hesitation in his actions, twisting so you can look at him again.

 

“I need to know what happens after your heat.” His eyes are wide, almost sad with the amount of desperation showing on his face.

 

“I told you I don’t know,” you watch as his cheek twitches in annoyance, “But I was hoping you and I could figure it out. I was never taught about what happens to a claimed Omega. ”

 

His face pinches up into a pained expression. “Because you’re supposed to be Beta, like the rest of your family.” 

 

He backs up a few steps, annoyance tinging his voice when he talks again. “This is more than just heats and ruts. If I give you what you’re asking for - if you want my claim, it-it,” he wipes at his mouth as he collects his thoughts. “I just, I can’t be the reason you don’t have your family. I couldn’t stand you resenting me for the rest of our lives, and because of your heat...This isn’t the time to make that kind of decision.”

 

The look on Benny’s face pops up in your memory, the sneer of disgust and disapproval. Voices of your family echo in your head, mixing with Anna’s recent words of encouragement.

 

“Dean, I’m not leaving my family. They’re leaving me,” you pause as the sadness of the revelation hits home. Tears well up in your eyes and your bottom lip starts to quiver. “They’re leaving me. Abandoning me. Suddenly I’m not worthy of their family name.” You give him a look, begging for an answer.

 

His eyes soften, and with one large step, he moves close enough to grab your upper arms, gently sliding his hands up and down. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

 

The tears run down your cheeks in thick streaks, “It’s not my fault.”

 

“No it’s not. It’s nobody’s fault.” Dean moves right into your personal space, right up until the buttons of his shirt brush against yours and the heat between you almost feels unbearable. He pulls you in, letting you rest your head against his chest and wraps his arms around you. You focus on the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat and breathe in the rich, comforting, manly scent he’s giving off. It helps quell the flow of tears and within a moment you sniffle them away.

 

“I feel like I get it now.” You swallow the lump in your throat, “It scares the hell out of me, but god. I used to read all the romantic stories about exactly this.” The thought makes you laugh bitterly. “I never could have imagined this being real. But you’re here and real. You’re my - my home.”

 

He lets you take his hand as you pull away to see his full expression.

 

“You smell like home, like my favorite place. It’s...God, it’s fucking bizarre, but I don’t know another way to say it. Nothing else feels right, not the way you do.” Your confusion and wonder is evident in the way your eyebrows furrow and your fingers squeeze around Dean’s. Meanwhile, he’s watching you with fond amusement.

 

“You gonna tell me I complete you while you’re at it?”

 

“If I need to,” you sniffle, turning and wiping at your wet nose and cheeks. The slow, stinging pain of cramps from your heat makes your knees go weak reminding you of the urgency of your situation. You can’t hold back the whimper from the intense pain, sucking in a breath through your teeth as you lean back forward into Dean’s chest again. His arms cross over your back, holding you upright tightly against him.

 

Your entire body throbs and pulses, blood pushing hard through your veins. You can feel the flutter of your pulse points under your skin as nothing but the sounds of heavy breathing fill the air. He gulps down lungfuls of air, exhaling shaky breaths next to your ear. 

 

It’s hot, not sexy hot, but actually, unbearably hot as he holds you close to him, bodies stiff and awkwardly stuck in an embrace in the middle of his condo. You try to control your breathing as you feel his chest expanding and falling with long, controlled breaths. The moment drags on, the hug lasting longer than socially acceptable. Shaking hands caress his back without any real purpose or destination, just searching for the right spot to settle as you struggle to think of something to say to break off the moment. You want to both laugh and at the same time cry at how suddenly uncomfortable you feel in your own skin. Though you don’t want to step away, you consider tugging against his hold, ending the moment. 

 

You don’t though, and the moment continues to drag on; minutes of just holding each other and breathing, sharing air and space and silently admitting vulnerability until enough time passes that intimacy begins to creep in, and your mind starts to slow down. Long enough for the awkwardness to dissolve along with the need for excuses or witty one-liners. Long enough for your heartbeat to steady and your nerves to go electric from something other than fright.

 

“Omega?” Dean whispers as though he’s testing your response.

 

The word alone makes your chest heave and muscles ripple with a shiver. Your eyes immediately seek out his, offering him your full attention.

 

“Yes?”

 

For only a fraction of a second, his eyes widen with surprise and awe. You keep focused on him as he looks down, taking in the sight of you in his arms. His cheeks go a little pink as a smile spreads over his lips.

 

“Omega?” He teases, adding an arched eyebrow this time.

 

You react with a matching look, jaw wiggling a little as you chew on the words for an extra few seconds. “Yes, Alpha?”

 

His head tilts back as he rolls his shoulders with satisfaction, eyelids slowly closing then opening as he looks you over. “You okay?”

 

You reel your mind back from thinking about his lips and the push of your pulse against your skin. Aside from the scorching heat covering you and the needy ache between your hips, you feel fine - lighter but still tense from craving the Alpha and his knot and... _ whoa slow that train of thought down. _

 

“Yeah...” you respond.

 

“But?” he replies to your hesitation.

 

“Don’t you hate me? Why do you even want me here?”

 

“Hate you? No. No way. Did you make me mad? Hell yeah. More mad than I can remember being in a long time. I wanted to rip him apart, knock that accent right out of his mouth and scream at him for even looking at you.” 

 

Your breath jumps at bit at his confession, but you don’t hear any danger in his tone. “Okayy?”

 

He huffs out a breath of a laugh, “You’ve done nothing but infuriate me from day fucking one. Knowing you were mine, and not being able to do anything about it? You can’t even begin to know what that did to me. I hate that things played out like this, that you’re hurt, and that I had to share you at all,” he clenches his jaw with a grunt, “But you’re my Omega. I want you, always, even when you piss me off.”

 

You nod, still not convinced of his forgiveness, not even fully convinced you deserve it just yet, but sure that it’s something you’ll both work for. The thought of him all coiled up and tight with Alpha power sends a twinge of desire right through your center.

 

“Dean?” You push up even closer to him, feeling his arms tighten and hold you against him.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I am sorry.”

 

“I know.”

 

The silence goes on for a beat, aside from the rush of blood and the sound of labored breathing between you. Your inner voice, the Omega in you has gone surprisingly quiet, which is fine. You don’t need any instructions for this part. 

 

You slide ever-so-slightly up and down against him, seeking some kind of friction. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you...Alpha?”

 

A strained, almost-sob escapes from his lips.

 

“Dean? You okay?” You ask, whipping your head back, eyes rapidly scanning him with concern.

 

“Yeah, just -” he pushes a breath through pursed lips as he looks you straight in the eyes with a predatory glint, “Don’t tease me, Omega.”

 

“I don’t think I even have it in me right now.” 

 

The words have barely escaped when he presses his lips against yours, stopping any chance of teasing or coy remarks. Your lips part to allow for his tongue, or maybe it’s his lips parting for you. Either way, at the same time you open up, the tips of your tongues meet as you exhale deep breaths against one another’s cheeks. Your hands scramble for a spot to hold, and restlessly roam everywhere they can reach - fingers curled so that your nails dig into his shirt and scrape against the fabric, then down and around. Your arm tangles with his for a moment as he shifts as well, your hand climbing up his chest until you can cradle the back of his head, keeping him tilted to meet your desperate kisses.

 

His hands roam as freely as yours, cupping your ass, your breasts, pulling you against him and kneading into your muscles with his palms. Harsh breaths and gasps escape between smacks of lips and the occasional clacking of teeth.

 

You manage to disentangle your arms, tucking them between you and fumbling blindly at the buttons of his shirt. “Bedroom?” you whisper against his jaw between nibbles and licks.

 

“Yeah. Yes. God yes,” he moans, rocking you both a little so that you can begin the clumsy shuffle to the bedroom.

 

It’s a disaster, trying to undress and make-out and move at the same time. Lots of “uummffss” and “oops” and “sorry bout that” between you, but none of that deters either of you as clothes get shed, unceremoniously. 

 

“Waited...so long...for you, Omega.”

“I can’t believe...I wasted..ohgod...all this time.”

“Gonna...mmyeah...make up for it.”

 

He’s got you pressed against the wall just outside of his bedroom, his pants still hooked around one of his calves and his hand roaming beneath your panties. He’s standing almost upright, your head resting against the wall as he’s watching you writhe against his fingers, your mouth hanging open as you pant. You drag your eyes away from his face, slowly taking in the rest of his form - patches of skin blotchy and streaked red already from where you dug into his skin, freckles spanning across his chest, and lower to where his boxers are tented and his cock bobs with the rush of blood. One single thought forms just then.

 

“You gonna knot me?” your voice rises with hope at the end.

 

He surges forward at that, mouth dragging with half sloppy kisses, half nibbles at your jaw and then down to your neck, scenting you, marking you with light little sucks at the sensitive spots he finds.

 

“Fuck yes. Fill you up.” He grinds his hips against yours, pressing his cock tightly between you and you whimper, but manage to stick a hand against his chest and push him back slightly. His glazed-over eyes search your face for an explanation.

 

_ Say it. Just tell him.  _

 

“I’m not just a bitch for breeding,” you blurt out.

 

His head snaps back, eyes widening at the bluntness of your statement, “I know that.”

 

His agreement signals you to release the floodgates of word vomit that’s been building up, “And I’m not a homemaker, and I am not just going to be taking orders from you, or just be used to make you look good at work. And I don’t want to just be attached to your side, I’m going to want to go out and not have to be chaperoned all the damn time.”

 

He waits to make sure you’re done before chuckling at you. “I’d never treat you that way. But Omega?”

 

Your tremble at the low, seductive tone of his voice.

 

“Hmm?”

 

He pulls you from the wall with his fingers wrapped around your wrists and twists you around so that your back is to his chest. He shakes at his leg, losing the pants and teeters you forward into the bedroom. Your arms are pulled, crossed over your chest as he pushes his straining cock against you again. “You do want my pups at some point, right?” he whispers into the spot just behind your ear.

 

“Ah-huh,” you manage to squeak as a response.

 

“And how would you feel about me telling you to get on the bed and present yourself to me right now?” You half-heartedly try to pull out of his grip, but at the same time you arch your back and grind your ass against him, knees nearly buckling as he continues, “I think you’d like that. I think...that maybe you wouldn’t mind taking orders from me all that much.”

 

You fight against the groan rising in your throat and harshly whisper, “You know what I mean.”

 

He lets go of your hands and lowers his own to your waist, hooking into the top of your panties. He lets his fingertips tease right there for a second, almost tickling, but then just as quickly gets to work sliding them down your legs. With gentle pushes, he guides you to turn around as you step out of them, the shark-like smile on his face putting his teeth on full display.

 

“Yeah. I know what you meant, and I’m pretty damn sure you know what I mean. Is that right, Omega?”

 

_ Submit. Do it. For the love of God submit. Submitsubmitsub- _

 

“Yes, Alpha.”

 

The way his hair is messed up, and the glint in his eyes makes him almost look feral as he lets out a low growl of satisfaction.

 

“Lie down.”

 

Everything is rushed, needy and desperate. For a second you question whether you should try to slow down, but this isn’t the first time you and Dean have been intimate, and it won’t be the last, so you quiet the voice down and go back to concentrating on the Alpha in front of you.

 

Backing up the remaining few steps, you obey immediately, crawling back until you can rest against the pillows. You watch as his eyes follow your every movement, eyeing your breasts as they bounce a little and then finally your pussy when you rest your feet flat against the mattress and you spread your thighs apart. As you move, he dips his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and stretches them over his cock before letting them fall to the floor.

 

Naked and getting on his knees at the foot of the bed, his eyes are focused on one thing, and he doesn’t hesitate to go for it. He lies down on his stomach, elbows resting on the mattress next to your thighs, and he hooks his arms around, holding your legs open. Your slick is spread all over your inner thighs, and that’s where he starts to lick, mouth open wide and tongue dragging, tasting you. He switches from one side to the other, moving higher and higher, licking you clean until he tickles the crease at your thigh, making you twitch and pull your knees together.

 

“Nuh-uh,” he growls, fingers catching and pulling your legs apart again. He buries his mouth right into your slit, making you gasp and jerk your hips right off the mattress. The quick movement fails to deter him, though, and he goes to work with his lips and tongue fucking you. It’s beyond enthusiastic, it’s ravenous, and jolts your body quickly to the peak of pleasure. Your moans of “Oh god” had dwindled into simple syllables, disjointed and pushed out on heavy, strained breaths. Your back arches, and your clit feels so sensitive that you want to yank away, afraid of the build-up of pleasure that’s made you break out in a feverish sweat.

 

Then he puts on the pressure, in just the right spot, and you hold your hips still waiting for the right stroke of his tongue to give you release, and when it does, it pulls a harsh moan from deep in your throat. Your walls contract and release over and over, clenching around nothing. Your shoulders lift off the bed as your stomach tightens, blood seeming to stop pumping for a few seconds, then rushing hot and fast and tingling to every prickling pinpoint on your skin.

You both shine with sweat, breathing heavily with parted lips while you try to catch your breath. He presses wet, lingering kisses back over the insides of your thighs, his breathing loud with huffs of satisfaction. His hands leave your skin to prop himself against the bedspread, allowing him to slightly hover between your spread thighs.

 

“You ready for more?”

 

You moan out an affirmation that sounds like a sob, your body eager though your brain’s not quite caught up.

 

He hums out a low, satisfied chuckle, “Oh yeah?”

 

The few seconds between his questions give you enough time to become somewhat more coherent.

 

“Mmmhmm.”

 

He shifts his hands, then his knees, crawling forward and over you, his chest skimming over yours as he eases himself into position to meet your lips with his own. He tastes like you, and you lick the tang off his lips with open-mouthed kisses and flicks of your tongue. He kisses back, but lets you take your time until you finally press his mouth open to press your tongue against his. The kisses start slow and deep, but in less than a moment they devolve again to something quick and dirty and desperate.

 

Your hands cling to him, trying to pull him into you. The tip of his cock occasionally bumps against you and causes you to gasp with anticipation. He smiles into the kiss each time with a light huff of laughter at your obvious eagerness, but keeps his hips just far enough away.

 

He drags his lips to your ear. “Omega? Are you ready for your Alpha?”

 

“God! Yes,” you whine over what should be obvious.

 

He tilts his head to skim his lips over your neck, his breath tickling against your sensitive skin as he talks, “Are you mine, Omega? Gonna let me mark you?”

 

If it were possible to melt, you’d be a puddle on the mattress.

 

“Well?” he asks, impatiently.

 

Placing your hands to cup his jaw, you hold his face just above yours and force him to maintain intensely intimate eye contact while you answer. “Yes.” Your voice doesn’t even waiver. “How do you want me? Should I turn over?  Present mys-”

“No, no,” he stops you with a quick kiss to your lips. He tucks his arms beneath you and rolls the two of you over before you can even realize what he’s doing. Letting out a quick squeal followed by nervous laughter you drop your head against his chest until the embarrassment fades and you finally notice him watching you with a fond kind of smile.

 

“Don’t be shy. I want to see you,” he drops his hands to your hips, squeezing gently and prompting you to lift slightly. That’s when you realize his cock is pressing against you. You sway your hips just slightly with the guidance of his hands, rubbing yourself along the length of him. The head of his cock hot against your clit reignites the urgent need to come again. You glance down, following the invisible line in the center of his torso, from the center of his ribs, to his nearly defined stomach muscles, and lower - past his belly button and along the fine hair to where it gets thicker and finally where you are rubbing against his cock, wet with your slick. When you look back up to his face, he’s watching you, mouth hanging open and eyes glazed over with lust.

 

“Yeah, I wanna have you just like this,” he practically slurs out, lips barely moving to form the words while his hands press a little harder, pushing you up. Following his lead again, you hold yourself up a little higher and reach down, grabbing onto his shaft, sliding your hand up and down once or twice before setting him in place against you. 

 

He groans, tilting his hips up in a weak attempt to get inside of you. Just the push of the head of his cock thrills you, and the tease is impossible at this point, so you relax your hips and ease yourself down onto him, pulling satisfied sighs from the both of you.

 

“Just like this,” he echoes in a reverent whisper. His hands push and pull at your hips, rocking you against him. You start with a quick tense of your thighs, lifting slightly and pitching forward just a bit to get the angle right. It’s a few slow, gentle bounces to start; but then it’s not. Your legs flex on either side of his hips as you ride him, swiveling your hips with each up-down to feel him hit all the right spots, to put pressure on your clit with each clash against his skin.

 

“Just like this,” you agree, mouth going dry from ragged breaths. Your hands roam, stroking over his belly, dragging a fingernail over a nipple which results in an umanly, but turned on moan, and then up to his shoulders, where you grab hold to give yourself leverage for the constant push-pull.

 

It feels like you’re riding him forever, but it’s really not long before your body gets close to your edge again. The sense of being so close to peaking again overwhelms you and you start to lose your rhythm, body wanting but unable to function with the rush of sensations.

 

“Dean..I need...I can’t, but...” you trail off, throwing back your head in frustration, “I’m close.”

 

“I got you. Hold on.”

 

He slides his hands against you and pushes you away. Not harshly, just enough to get you to move the way he wants, and apparently he wants you on your back. Once you’ve both shifted so that you’re lying centered on the bed and he’s back between your legs, he leans in to kiss you.

 

“My beautiful, perfect Omega,” he says as he kisses along your cheek. “Gonna give you everything, gonna take care of you.”

 

His cock bounces and throbs against you where it hangs heavy against your pussy.

 

“Please,” you whine, “Alpha.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He doesn’t even use his hands, just moves your legs and his hips until he feels himself lined up and pushes back in. He rests one forearm on the bed to hold himself up, the other cradled just below your ear, holding your head in place while he kisses you fiercely. His knees are settled tightly against the backs of your thighs while his hips thrust back and forth, building you right back up.

 

When he pulls away to allow you both to breathe, that’s when you feel it - his knot thickening near the base of his cock. You suck in a surprised gasp at the feeling - a slight tug, but not uncomfortable.

 

“You okay?” he whispers.

 

Nervous excitement shivers through you and you can’t imagine turning back.

 

“Yes. Please. I want you. Alpha.”

 

He answers with a growl and a forceful thrust into you.

 

The push of his swelling knot adds to the sensations sending tingles through each and every nerve and you tilt your hips into it, letting him push and grind. His movements turn shallow as the thickness grows, locking him into you, and forcing him to rock against you, putting weight and pressure directly on your clit.

 

“Oh god. Deeean. Dea--Alpha!” you cry out, ready to catch fire from the heat of your skin pressed against his, your hands clawing at his back in desperation.

 

The fingers against your skull curl in as he grabs you tight, guiding your head to the side and exposing your neck. Words feel impossible, though in your head you hear a chant of  _ Yes. Yes. Yes. _ and you push against his hand, turning your head away to give him better access. Like it was the ipermission he needed, he dips his head down, nuzzling into the curve of your neck.

 

Just the tickle of his lips and tongue, combined with the full feeling of his cock inside you, sends you over the edge. It’s a god damn explosion of relief and pleasure that makes you wail, going even higher-pitched when you feel his lips spread and teeth sink into your skin. Pleasure and pain mix into one, and a wave of something that can only be described as euphoria crashes over the two of you. His hips jerk while his cock throbs inside of you, pulsing come as his teeth dig further in, sending a loop of bliss running from top to bottom.

 

You stay frozen like that for a few moments, panting like animals until you both manage to catch your breath and think beyond riding out the pleasure of your shared orgasms. Muscles loosen, his grip eases up and he starts to pull his mouth away, gently suckling and tending to your fresh mark while you both lazily come down from your highs.

 

“Wow,” you whisper, voice hoarse.

 

“Mmhmm,” he answers.

 

“Wow,” you repeat, making him chuckle mid-kiss against your neck. It tickles, and instinct makes you try to jerk away, but you both wince as the tug of his knot is a shared discomfort. 

 

“Oh shit, sorry. Ow, sorry,” you rush out.

 

“It’s okay,” he lifts his head to give you a half-smile.

 

You smile back, but avoid his eyes, suddenly jumpy again with awkwardness. 

 

“So...you’re like...really stuck in there?” you blurt out, partially curious, partially uncomfortable.

 

_ Mood successfully killed. _

 

His eyes go from drowsy and clouded from sex to alert and scrutinizing. He doesn’t respond right away and you can see the moment he seems to brush away the annoyance, shaking his head just slightly while his chest twitches against yours with a soft chuckle.

 

“Yup,” he pops. “That’s how that works.”

 

You jump right in over his words, “Yeah. And I know, but I guess I just didn’t expect it. I mean I expected it, but it’s just not what I expected. And I could pick a better time for a biology refresher, so I’m gonna shut up.”

 

He smiles, amusement written all over his face until his arm jerks and twitches against the bed. “C’mere,” he says as he shifts you both until you end up on your sides, his arm resting beneath the pillows and legs still tangled while you wait until you can seperate. “I got you. Through it all,” he promises as he strokes his fingers along your skin, sticking here and there from sweat, but soothing you nonetheless.

 

“Sorry I’m so stupid about this.”

 

“You’re not stupid. Okay? We’ll get you through all this. As slow as you need to, and I’ll try to keep you comfortable.”

 

“Stop it.”

 

“Stop what?”

 

“Being so wonderful.”

 

“Can’t. It’s one of my best traits.”

 

“Along with humility.”

 

“You’ll learn to love it.” 

 

You both stop breathing and the silence seems to pulse around you. To add to the awkward, that’s when his dick decides to slide loose making you cringe at the wet feeling of his softening cock and mixture of come on your thigh. 

 

“There’s no way to make that graceful,” he says, apologetically.

 

“Yeah,” you agree.

 

He clears his throat, “Look, the love thing, I meant it’s not like you’re automatically in love or anything just because we’re bonded. I know that. We’ve got time, I’m not expecting - we don’t have to say it. You know? ”

 

“So you don’t?” you tease. There’s definitely satisfaction settling into your chest watching him stumble over himself for once and you watch him with pursed lips, trying to keep the smile from creeping onto your face while you let him flounder a bit longer.

 

“I don’t mean it like that. I mean, like I can wait, I’m not sitting here waiting or expecting you to say anything like that now because of my mark. And I don't want you to think I'm saying anything because of it either.”

 

“Dean.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“It’s okay. I get it. It's not magic or anything.”

 

“Okay,” he smiles with visible relief. “I do really care about you. You know that, right?”

 

“Yeah, I know.” You nestle against him, letting comfort settle over you like a soft blanket. “We’ll get there, probably sooner than later, and you know what? I can’t wait to learn all the things to love about you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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